


Tumblr Posts

by Jen27ny



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 58,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen27ny/pseuds/Jen27ny
Summary: Literally what the title says. All the prompts and one-shots I post on tumblr.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 132
Kudos: 467





	1. Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I've been thinking a long time about putting my tumblr stuff on this side, too, and in the end it was kinda a spur-of-the-moment thing. Here's my [masterlist](https://jen27ny.tumblr.com/post/188368936002/irondad-and-spiderson-masterlist), just in case you would like to check them out on tumblr or send me a message or whatever. 
> 
> All of these are not beta-read. English is not my first language, so there are probably some mistakes in them, but I always try my best to get rid of them. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Tony wakes up to an alert from FRIDAY that Peter is awake and not inside the house. Before panic can override every logical thought in his brain, he quickly checks the boy’s vitals and relaxes. They are all normal and indicate no nightmare or panic attack. Which begs the questions why he isn’t asleep at half past two in the morning?

Because he is already awake and he just knows he can’t go back to sleep without checking up on him, Tony decides to get up. Quietly, to not wake Pepper, he gets up, leaves their bedroom and briefly glances inside Morgan’s room to make sure she’s still sleeping (because if he is already looking after one of his kids, he can also make sure that the other one is okay, too), before tiptoeing downstairs and outside on the porch. Peter isn’t sitting in the rocking chair he’d come to love, but a few feet away on the grass, cross-legged, with his hands behind him to support his weight, his back to the house.

Tony’s footsteps are almost silent as he walks over to the boy that turned from his mentee into his quasi-son, that he lost and got back again. Peter doesn’t turn his head as he sits down beside him and Tony grimaces when he notices how damp the grass is. Why is he sitting on the cold, wet ground if there’s a perfectly comfortable bench on the porch? Or better yet, the bed inside his room?

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” he jokes after a second.

Peter’s lips quirk upwards. “Sorry,” he says, because _of course_ he does, “I asked FRIDAY to let you sleep. Guess she didn’t listen to me.”

“Well, she’s a bit of a worrywart, so she always jumps the gun.” Peter snorts, knowing all too well that it’s Tony who programed his AI to always tell him everything the second it happens. You can call it helicopter-parenting or paranoia. He doesn’t care as long as his family is safe. “The better question is why you aren’t sleeping.”

“I just couldn’t, I guess.” His eyes are back on the trees, probably seeing something Tony can’t even see when it’s daytime and he wears his glasses.

“Dreams?” Tony’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper while he waits for his answer. Dreams – specifically the bad ones – are the reason why the boy is here right now. Adjusting to live after being trapped inside the soul stone for five years and fighting in a battle against aliens isn’t something anyone can just brush off. Especially if those aren’t your only traumas. The spider bite, losing almost all of his family, Toomes, collapsing buildings, drowning, almost being killed by evil drones – Peter has quite a collection of traumatic experiences, much to Tony’s displeasure. 

May reached out to him, concerned because it was getting worse. Peter was barely smiling, always looking in the distance, his thought somewhere else – on a different planet, in a different reality, who knew? It wasn’t a look any of them liked, too different from his usual, happy, chipper self. Being in the city didn’t help. It was still half a ghost city; everyone was too overwhelmed by what had happened and nobody started to rebuild anything that had been abandoned or destroyed. Wherever you looked, it was a reminder of what happened.

So, when Tony had offered to have him stay at the lake house with them for a few days, May willingly agreed. And it’s not just for Peter’s benefit. The billionaire feels way calmer when the boy is in his reach. When he can reassure himself that he is back, that he isn’t dust on Titan, that this is real and happening.

Peter shakes his head. “No.” Tony can’t help but snort with disbelieve. “For real! No bad dreams. Well, no dreams at all.”

Tony cocks his head to the side, staring at him curiously. “Why is that?”

“Didn’t sleep,” he answers with a shrug.

That seems unlikely. Peter and Morgan spent the entire day romping around, alternating between running through their garden and jumping in the lake with the energy only a five-year old and a hyperactive superhero could have. Tony watched them for hours, a warm, peaceful feeling filling his chest.

Despite their close relationship now, the two had a rocky start. Peter didn’t know how to act around the kid – Tony’s and Pepper’s kid – that was suddenly there and a very real part of his mentor’s life, even though no time had passed for himself. Morgan is shy around strangers, which, yes, is partly Tony’s fault for insulating her just a bit (read: a lot) from anything that could be a threat (read: basically everything), he admits that, but she also didn’t know what to think about the boy she knew from pictures inside her home, but that nobody ever talked about because it hurt too much. They awkwardly danced around each other, not really talking to one another, only really comfortable when Tony or Pepper was with them.

The man had feared that it would always be like that, this awkwardness every time they all spend time together, but if there was one thing both kids had in common (despite being able to wrap a certain billionaire around their pinky simply by smiling at him) it was their ability to make everyone fall in love with them. When Tony came down the stairs the next morning, he heard excited chattering he knew from countless hours of listening about Star Wars and the stories Morgan loved to make up. He couldn’t say if their conversation had started with Disney movies or something else, but when Tony stopped on the stairs, Morgan was updating Peter about everything Disney related that had happened in the last five years. Which hadn’t really been a lot, but that wasn’t bothering them. With a newly found kind of peace and a soft smile on his lips, Tony stayed there, just listening to them rambling on and on and laughing. Only when his daughter said she’d love to have her own Stitch and Peter said that, if she didn’t mind him not being blue, he knew a racoon from space that would do the job, Tony decided to intervene. Ever since then, the two are inseparable.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” Tony asked with way more patience than he had a few years ago.

Peter doesn’t answer immediately, long enough for Tony to think he’s not getting an answer. Finally, he says: “It’s just so … different.”

Something inside Tony’s chest hurts. “Pete, I know it’s been a lot, but not sleeping won’t make it easier.”

“No, it’s not that. Not this time, at least.” It’s meant as a joke, but neither of them can find it in themselves to smile. “It’s … all this. All this nature. There’re so many sounds and smells and … stuff. I just couldn’t stay in bed, not when there’s so much happening I’m not used to.”

“Like what?” Tony knows what he means. The first few weeks living here had been weird. After a lifetime in the city, the isolation of the lake house had almost been creepy. But he never says no to hear Peter describe things with his own words, so he shuts up.

“Like … the rustling of all the leaves whenever the wind blows. The smell of the grass and the earth and the flowers. The way the light from the moon and stars hits everything. The waves on the lake.” He pauses, like he needs another moment to take in all he was experiencing. “All the animals, insects, and bugs.”

“Yeah? What animals?”

“Absolutely no clue.” This time, Tony can’t help but laugh, one that starts in his belly and escapes out of his mouth before he can think twice about it. Peter just smiles. “I’m serious. I’m trying to figure it out for hours now, but I have no idea what they sound like. Pretty sure there’s a beaver or fox here somewhere, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking.”

“I’m truly shocked. I thought you’re going to a nerd school.”

“Yeah, for technology and science, not animal noises,” Peter laughs. “I lived in the city for all my life, what do you expect? I’ve been camping with Ben and May when I was, like, ten. We had this tent, barely large enough for all of us, and when I woke up, there was this gigantic spider directly in front of my face. It was the size of, like, my head, at least. Ever since then, I hate spiders and I’ve never been camping again.”

“I’m buying a tape with animal noises. We can’t have you stay up all night, trying to figure out what’s hiding in the woods.”

“Pretty sure we can find something on YouTube, too.” Tony snorts. They fall silent, listening to the quiet noises of nature around them. Not that the man hears a lot, mostly the soft rustles of the leaves in the wind, but he still basks in the time they spend together. After the heartache and grief he hoarded for years, just sitting here feels so much more important than before.

“It’s so peaceful,” Peter whispers after minutes. “The nature, hearing all your heartbeats and breaths, the generator in the house, Gerald, your snoring – “

“I don’t snore.”

“You do. Trust me.”

“Not possible. Pretty sure you’re hearing Gerald.”

“No, your snores are _so_ much worse than his.” He gives him a cheeky grin and Tony can’t help but ruffle his curls in responds. “I feel … calm. At peace.”

The smile that spreads on Tony’s face is the softest he ever gave the boy. Without thinking about it, he puts his arm around his shoulders, pulling Peter close to him and pressing a kiss on his hair. A sense of relief filled him, because finally, _finally_ , his boy is coming home. It’s still a long way, but this is a start.

They stayed like this for a long time. “We can get a tent,” Tony thinks out loud. “Go camping. Or glamping, if we feel fancy enough.”

Peter snorts, but doesn’t disagree. “Morgan will love it.”

“Yeah, probably. Be prepared to be dragged camping every other day until she gets sick of it.”

“I think I’ll manage. I’m more concerned about you, to be honest.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Peter looks up to him, the cheeky grin back in place. “Pepper told me that you think your social security number is five. You won’t survive a night in a tent.”

“Okay, first of all, that was years ago.” Tony doesn’t get a chance to properly defend himself, because Peter laughs and that’s a sound Tony will never get tired of hearing.


	2. Patty Parker

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal.”

“Definitely. But he deserves it,” MJ says, way too enthusiastic about this entire scheme, her usual frown is replaced by a smirk.

“Again, he didn’t fire me. I quit.”

“Yes, because he’s a misogynistic douchebag who didn’t even try to see your potential.”

“Okay, almost done, we only need a name,” Ned interrupts them, looking up from his computer. “Maybe something with a P? You know, keeping it close to the truth.”

“Patrick?” MJ suggests.

A grimace. “No. It reminds me too much of SpongeBob.”

“What about Peter?” Ned says. “You could be … Peter … maybe Benjamin? Peter Benjamin Parker? It has a nice ring to it.”

“I like it,” MJ says, looking over her friend’s shoulder on the screen.

Patricia – though she does prefer Pat or Patty because Patricia is just too much of a mouthful – thinks about it for a second and, realizing that there’s no way she can stop this now, just nods. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Ned grins and starts typing away before he dramatically saves the file. “Congratulations, Peter. You now have all the fake documents you need to apply for an internship at SI.” Pat sighs and closes her eyes. Why didn’t she stop this before it could go this far? Well, okay, it’s her idea, but it was meant to be a joke! She didn’t expect that her two best friends would take her seriously.

Up until yesterday, Pat had an internship at OsCorp, working personally with Norman Osborn himself. She had been absolutely psyched when she found out she got accepted for an internship over her summer break. Her parents have worked for OsCorp and – even though she had been there on a field trip fraught with consequences – she always wanted to work there, following her parents’ footsteps and feeling closer to them. At first, Pat had been too excited to think about why she just watched the man work and wasn’t allowed to work herself or maybe even assist him. He had always dismissed her ideas, barely listening to her. And, yes, after a while that has been very frustrating, but she was an intern. Maybe she was actually overstepping some boundaries.

Then she found out about the competition, the one that was especially designed for High School interns of major tech companies to foster their interest in science and let companies get a good look at potential employees. Pat wanted to join (winning it would definitely make sure that she’s getting into MIT), already having an idea – but Osborn said no. Even though it didn’t say it on the website, traditionally, only boys take part in it, so she shouldn’t even bother. She tried to argue that he could be the first one to send a girl, to do something new, but he was barely listening. _End of discussion_ , he said. _Fine, end of internship_ , she answered. (Well, she didn’t use those exact words, but she did quit, so same thing.)

To be honest, Pat isn’t really sad, more furious and frustrated. She knows she has good ideas! So why didn’t he listen? Everyone was talking about getting more girls into science and here she is, a girl that is interested in science and wants to do science, but wherever she goes, doors are slammed in her face. Ned and MJ listened to her rant, and when Pat jokingly said _if you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em_ they jumped on the idea, deciding that she should totally participate in the competition as an intern for OsCorp’s biggest competitor, disguise herself as a boy and then have a dramatic reveal that she’s, in fact, not a boy. Before she could even begin to protest, they looked up if Stark Industries is hiring interns right now – they are – and started photoshopping all the important documents she needs.

Thus, Peter Benjamin Parker was born.

“This will end horribly,” Pat says, liking the ideas less with every second that passes. “They will find out I’m not a boy and probably like, sue me or something. Please promise me you’ll visit me in jail.”

“Patty, nobody is going to notice anything,” Ned tries to reassure her, but it isn’t really working. “I mean, people still think it’s Spider- _Man_.”

When Pat first donned her self-made superhero costume to swing around her neighborhood, she’d never expected that people would mistake her for a guy. Then again, the mask does hide her short ponytail, the hoodie gives her a pretty much shapeless figure, and the sports bra makes her already flat chest even flatter. Ned and MJ are the only ones that knows that it’s not Spider-Man but Spider-Woman – also, they’re the only ones who know who’s under the mask. Ned because Pat hadn’t realized that he was in the room when she came back from patrol, and MJ because – while Pat still trusts Ned more than anyone else and he’s her best friend since before kindergarten – she did had injuries in places she doesn’t want Ned to see.

“Don’t be dramatic,” MJ comments with her signature eyeroll. “You just need to wear one of your sweaters or a hoodie, lower your voice a bit, and it will be fine.”

“What about my hair? I don’t want to cut it.” While she does complain about her curls a lot, she actually likes them. If they do what she wants them to do – which does not happen often at all.

“Then wear a wig. A good one.”

“Where do I even get a good wig?”

“Hello? The internet? You know, the place we all spend way too much time at?”

“It’s done,” Ned says, smiling like a lunatic which is never a good sign. “I just sent your application for the internship.”

Pat groans, hides her face in her hands and mumbles: “This is stupid. I probably won’t even get accepted, anyways.”

* * *

She gets accepted. And not just for any intern spot, but the personal intern of the head of their R&D department.

A week later, Pat walks through the door of the SI Tower, disguised as Peter Parker, wearing a – good – wig, one of her favorite science pun shirts, a jacket and baggy jeans. She did think about coming in a suit, but she doesn’t own one and Ned’s doesn’t fit her. Both MJ and Ned reassured her that nobody would think she was a girl, but she’s still incredible nervous.

She registers herself – no, Peter – at the reception and is send to an elevator that takes her up to the 87th floor. Her hands are really sweaty and she wipes them on her jeans every few seconds. The elevator is almost soundless, moving smoothly, and she barely feels it stop. Before the doors open, she can already hear classic rock music (AC/DC? Led Zeppelin?) – but then they open and so does her mouth. Norman Osborn’s lab had been amazing, but it is nothing compared to this. Two robots are in one corner, moving their claws up and down as if they’re talking to one another. There are several holo-screens, moving around the room if needed. Workbenches with so much stuff on them, Pat doesn’t recognize half of it.

In the middle of the room sits the man himself – Tony Stark, _Iron Man_ , Pat’s hero since she could remember. She has several posters and shirts with Iron Man on them, and read all of Tony Stark’s papers. Which aren’t really a lot because he’s the type of scientist that builds and doesn’t write papers, but she still follows up on everything he does. (Yes, she has always dreamed of working with one of the brightest minds alive, but there had been this weird feeling of obligation that she should work for OsCorp that had kept her from applying anywhere else.)

When the doors open, Tony Stark looks up. He’s dressed casually in a Black Sabbath shirt and old jeans – suddenly, she’s very grateful she’s not in a suit –, working on _the actual Iron Man suit_. Pat can’t believe it. She has to be dreaming. That’s why the whole I’m-pretending-to-be-a-boy-situation is so weird and working. It’s only a dream.

“Mr. Parker!” he says with a grin and the music turns off. “Come on in! I mean, it _is_ a cool elevator, but it’s way more fun in here, I promise you.”

Still starstruck, Pat hesitantly steps out of the elevator. The genius stands up from his bench and comes over to her, shaking her hand. _Oh my God, I’m shaking Tony Stark’s hand_. “M-Mr. Stark, Sir, it’s such an honor to meet you! I’m a big fan of your work, Sir!”

“Okay, first rule, drop the Sir,” he laughs, “it makes me feel like I’m one of those boring, old man, and I would definitely argue that I’m not.” Pat just nods, still not able to form any words. Osborn always wanted her to call him Sir, making sure to have an almost cold relationship. This is the complete opposite. “I have to say, I was very impressed when I saw your application, Peter. Midtown isn’t a bad school, you have impressive grades, and you’re part of the robotics club. Why didn’t you apply earlier?”

She can feel her cheeks heat up, never one to deal really well with compliments. “W-Well, it just never like, crossed my mind, I guess?”

“Wow,” he says and gives her a fake crestfallen look, placing a hand over his chest, “I’m totally bummed. I thought you said you’re a fan and you didn’t think about working with me sooner? Couldn’t you have said you were too shy or something to boost my ego?” She can barely decide what to panic about (already almost blowing her cover for not having an answer to an obvious question or Tony Stark saying she works _with_ him), before he puts an arm around her shoulder and gently pushes her further inside the room. “Let me give you a tour and explain a few safety rules before we start, alright? The most important one is to never ever drink a smoothie DUM-E, that idiot over there, makes you.”

Pat can barely keep up. First of all, there is an actual AI called FRIDAY, which is one of the coolest things _ever_. The two robots DUM-E and U are surprisingly human-like and the way Tony interacts with them is hilarious. He demonstrates a few of his inventions that are lying around (including something from the Iron Man suit), explains how to use the holo-screens and shows her her own workbench that is overflowing with all kind of stuff to build something that tells him something about herself while he finishes up one of his projects. Her first thought is to recreate her web shooters, but she pauses. She can’t make something that Spider-Man uses, it will lead to too many questions she has really bad answers for. So, she decides to make a little drone with a camera, because she likes photography and – ever since the spider bite – heights.

Like always, she gets totally lost in her project, her hands working as fast as they can to keep up with her brain. She plays around with a few of the tools and materials Tony had offered her, some of which she has never even touched before. It’s already so much more exciting than her old internship. After a while though, she sees a flash of red and blue out of the corner of her eyes and moves her head to find out what Tony is working on – and almost drops her prototype. He’s looking at a Spider-Man video, the one where she catches the car before it can slam into the bus, and there is a design for a suit on his holo-screen. A suit with a spider in the middle of it. “Is that Spider-Man?” she asks before her brain can catch up that this may be a bad idea.

“Yeah,” he says, apparently not mad that she sneaked a peek at what he is doing. “Hey, you’re from Queens, right? Have you ever met him?”

“N-No. Just, uhm, saw him swing by a couple of times.”

Tony nods, his eyes still on the video. “What do you think of him?”

Pat doesn’t know why the billionaire is interested in the spider themed superhero, but it’s making her nervous. “Y’know, he seems like a pretty cool guy … man … guy … guy man.”

He looks at her now, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Guy man? Is that what teenagers say these days?”

Her face heats up and she wishes the earth would open and swallow her. “Why are you interested in him, anyway?”

“I’m making him a suit.”

This time, she can barely catch her drone before it hits the table. Her heart stops beating for a second and her brain is completely unable to form a logical thought besides: “Why?”

Tony watches her for a second (she can’t tell if it’s out of amusement or something else), before looking back at his designs. “He’s got a lot of potential. I’m pretty sure that he makes his webs himself, which in itself is quite impressive. Took me longer than I like to admit to recreate them. But the suit is basically just a onesie painted on with a sharpie.” It’s not a onesie. She did use a sharpie, however. “I’m not getting any younger and I have to think about the future of the Avengers eventually. Spider-Man can be a real asset, especially with a little bit of guidance from someone with experience. But it would be way easier to convince him if I already have an absolutely awesome suit with me that will knock him right out of his onesie.” He looks back at her. “Any ideas?”

“What?” she just breaths, feeling unbelievable overwhelmed. Iron Man thinks she has potential. He thinks she can be an Avenger. He wants her to be mentored. What?! How is this real? It has to be a dream! But one she certainly doesn’t want to wake up from.

“For the suit. Any ideas. I’ve been watching all his videos to figure out how he fights and what would help him, but a fresh set of eyes may see something I missed.”

“Y-You want me to work with you on your project?”

He nods and looks at her with an amused expression. “Yeah, isn’t that what interns do?”

“I thought they would just server coffee and watch.”

The superhero grimaces. “Well, that sounds really lame. I’m cooler than that. Or do you want to do that?” Quickly, she shakes her head. “That’s what I thought. Now, shoot away. What can we add to help Spidey do his thing?”

Pat knows that it’s probably a bad idea to talk about Spider-Man while pretending to be a boy and also trying to hide that _she_ is Spider-Man. Like, a _really_ bad idea. But she can’t help herself. A chance to work with Tony Stark on something? That’s an opportunity she can’t miss, even if she has to be extra careful what she says (which is sometimes quite difficult, especially when she gets excited). “I mean, speaking as a completely objective third-party outsider with absolutely no personal interest in the matter … maybe more flexibility?”

* * *

The internship is like a dream. No, better than a dream because you wake up from one of those and Pat isn’t waking up.

Working with Tony Stark is beyond absolutely amazing. She can’t find the right words to describe it. And she’s actually working with him, not just watching him or handing him things or working on a different project and just happens to be in the same room as him, but _with_ him. He listens to her ideas, considers them and helps her improve them. He has a child-like enthusiasm for everything he does, jokes around and snorts about her stupid puns that just slip out without her noticing it. He even recognizes all of her movie references! Time flies by whenever they work and Pat doesn’t want this to ever end.

Of course, she has to screw it up. That’s just her Parker Luck.

Three weeks into the internship and about two weeks away from the competition ( _“We’re totally gonna crush this thing, Pete, just wait and see.”_ ), Pat gets stabbed during her nightly patrol. It hurts like hell, but empirically speaking, her wounds heal overnight. Not this one. She doesn’t know why, maybe it got infected or she’s got too much going on for her body to rest, but when she wakes up the next morning, she feels awful and the wound isn’t closed. For a second, she considers calling in sick. She only considers it, though, not actually doing it, because they want to test the spider-drone for the suit today. She can’t miss that! It’s her idea!

She should have called in sick.

The second Pat enters Tony’s lab, she knows she can’t hide her condition. “Hey kiddo,” Tony greets cheerfully, not turning around yet, “get over here, we have a lot to cover today and –“ He turns around. Pat can barely keep her eyes open and shuffles inside the lab. Then, he’s suddenly right in front of her, gripping her shoulders. “Peter? What’s going on? You look terrible.”

“’M not feelin’ good,” she mumbles and her head is swimming. 

“Yeah, no shit. FRIDAY, do a scan.” Before she can hear the AI’s answer, Pat straight up faints.

When she wakes up, she’s confused for about two seconds before she remembers what happened. Her heart drops. Oh no. _No, no, no, nononono_.

“That looks like the proper guilty face of someone who knows they have some explaining to do.” At once, Pat’s head snaps around to look at Tony, who is sitting at the workbench closest to the sofa she lays on. He doesn’t look happy. “How are you feeling?”

She hesitates and actually takes a second to listen to her body, trying to find an answer for that question. “Better.”

Tony nods. “I was kinda expecting that. After all, I could literally watch how your _stabbing_ wound closed by itself.” Pat swallows, completely unable to look away from his stern gaze. “So, tell me, Patricia May Parker, did you ever plan on telling me that we’re working on _your_ suit? And don’t try to make up some excuses, you’re terrible at them, anyway. FRIDAY ran a DNA test after we discovered your very fast healing wound. Spider DNA is quite unusual for normal people.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” she apologizes and sits up. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees her wig sitting on the ground. “I-I didn’t plan on you finding out.”

“Which part? That I find out about it you’re Spidey or that you’re a girl?” Before she can even think of an answer, he shakes his head. “Okay, but before I turn into an ignorant idiot or something: Is this about your gender? Do you want to be a boy?” Pat shakes her head no. “Then why pretend?”

“People just started assume Spider-Man is male. And it’s pretty convenient for my secret identity.”

“But you don’t need a secret identity for an internship. By the way, excellent job on those fake documents. On that note, I should probably tell my staff to do better background checks of the people we want to hire. Because it took me literally less than two minutes to find out that there’s no Peter Parker at Midtown.” She doesn’t know how to answer that. Should she even answer? Apparently, she should. “No, for real. I want to know what’s going on in your head, Patricia.”

“I, uh … Pat or Patty is fine,” she says, still trying to figure out how she can get out of this. But because she’s smart, she eventually realizes that there’s no way she can get out of this without telling the truth. And then she can kiss this internship goodbye. “It’s … really stupid.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Before I applied here, I had an internship at OsCorp, working for Mr. Osborn.”

“Well, that _is_ stupid,” he snorts, but makes a continue-gesture with his hand.

“After a while, I noticed that I wasn’t really doing anything besides standing around and watching him and making coffee, but I thought that’s just what interns do. Then I found out about the competition and thought that, maybe, if I’m a bit more proactive and show him that I want to do stuff, it’ll change. But he said I can’t compete because there’ll only be boys, so I quit. After that, I kinda joked around that I should go to the competition as a boy for OsCorp’s biggest competitor, which is SI, and win and then reveal that I’m not a boy. My friends took it seriously and … well, Peter happened.” Tony snorts, but she can’t say if it’s because he’s amused or disbelieving. She just keeps apologizing, because that’s what she always does. “I’m so, so, _so_ sorry, I really didn’t mean to lie to you! Please don’t sue me, I promise I’ll leave right now and won’t ever come near you or SI or the Tower again and I’ll never tell anyone and –“

“Why would you do that?” he interrupts her, which makes her come to a dead stop, forgetting how to form words for a second. She opens and closes her mouth without any sound coming out of it, like a fish, probably looking very stupid. Tony just stares and then rolls his chair over to the sofa. “I’ll be honest, I am kinda mad that you lied to me.” Her heart sinks and Pat’s ready to grab her wig and bag and dart out of the door. “But … it also sounds damn funny and dramatic, and who’s better at being dramatic than me?”

She blinks, not really understanding what he was saying. “Wait … what?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying what you did was good and Pepper is definitely going to have my head if I encourage reckless behavior in youngsters, but … well, Norman is an idiot for not seeing your potential and sidelining you, just because you’re a girl. Also, I love to mess with him and I can’t think of a better way than shoving his own stupidity in his face.” Tony shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, but the smirk is back and after all the hours Pat has spent with this man, she knows he already has an idea. “And I’m great at planning dramatic entrances and reveals. It’ll be amazing, I can already see it.”

“So, I-I’m not fired?”

“Why would I fire you? You got a good head on your shoulders, you do good work and you’re willing to learn. What else could I want from an intern?” Pat feels her cheeks start to burn and looks down on her knees. “Or are there any other secrets you keep from me that I should know about? Because now is kinda the perfect opportunity to come clean.” She shakes her head. “Perfect. Now, Spider-Man.” And there goes her heart again. “I mean, you pretty much killed my original plan to blow you away with the suit and therefor convince you to agree to the whole mentoring deal, but I can improvise.”

“You want to mentor me?” Her head snaps back up, not believing his words. Still being an intern already seems too good to be true, but Iron Man himself mentoring Spider-Man? Pat honestly thought she would never even see that suit again, not after this.

“Of course! Were you not listening to all my rambling about recruiting you for the past three weeks? You being a girl changes nothing about that. Also, based on that wound you had, you need some place where you can get stitched up. Probably someone as back-up, too.” Slowly, as if to not startle her, Tony gets up from his chair and sits next to her on the sofa. “I can’t stop you from doing your spider-thing, I know that. And the world needs people like you, people who help because they can, because they’re able to, because they can’t sit still while they see bad things happening to someone else. But what I can do is making sure that you have the right equipment and someone to call for help if it gets too much. So, what do you think? Wanna be my Padawan?”

Pat can’t stop herself. A grin spreads on her face. “Yes! Of course! Are you kidding me? This is the coolest thing ever! Like, I couldn’t believe it when you said you’re designing a suit for me, but this? Thank you so, so, _so_ much, Mr. Stark!”

Tony laughs, one that starts in his stomach and just erupts out of him. “That’s the answer I was hoping for. But, because I feel like I should at least pretend to be upset about you lying to me, you’re on bot-cleaning duty, indefinitely. Now, how about we get some food and you tell me how this whole spider-superhero-thing started while we work on something that will easily win that competition, Patty?”

(Pat does win the competition by far. Her identity reveal is absolutely dramatic, because of course it is, it’s orchestrated by Tony Stark himself. Norman Osborn is fuming and the press pounces at her, asking questions all at once and taking as many pictures as they can. Tony is by her side and proudly announces that they’re looking at the future of SI – because she now has a permanent position as his personal intern, like, _what even is her life_?! – and nobody should even think about trying to snatch her away. She’s smiling so much, her cheeks start hurting.)


	3. Date Night

Date night is something sacred for Tony and Pepper. Mostly because they’re so rare due to their busy schedules. Sometimes, they go weeks without having one, and even though they try to balance it out by having three in a week with little work to do (which happens almost never), it still isn’t enough. Hence the Date Night Protocol which blocks every call, text, and email, making it almost impossible to reach them. The only ones that can reach them in case of apocalyptical emergencies are Rhodey, Happy, and Peter.

They just finished their steaks when FRIDAY interrupts their home-cooked meal. “ _Mr. Parker attempts to contact you_.” Tony’s mouth is already open, the words that asking him to come to the boy’s school for his Physics project is not an emergency on the tip of his tongue, but the AI continues. “ _He wishes to speak to Miss Potts_.”

“What?” Tony can’t help but yell, and Pepper laughs at his dumbfounded expression. “Why?”

_“He did not specify.”_

“Are you worried that you’re going to lose your intern?” she asks with a smirk and takes another sip of her wine.

Tony squints his eyes. “No, why? Are you conspiring against me? _Should_ I be worried?”

“I’m just saying that he’s still starstruck every time he sees me. You, on the other hand, just get his sass.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that that’s how teenager express their love these days.” Pepper chuckles again, and Tony waves his hand. “Let’s see what he wants, then. Connect the call, FRI.” A soft beep indicates the connected line. “Parker! Why do you try to distract my date? I have dibs on her tonight.” He winks at Pepper and gets an affectionate eye roll in return.

Something is wrong. Peter isn’t rambling. He isn’t apologizing. Instead, they just hear heavy breathing, and some noises Tony cannot place. A bad feeling settles in his stomach, and Pepper puts her glass down.

Finally, Peter speaks. “I’m sorry.” He sounds awful. His voice cracks at the first syllable, and it carries a kind of hoarseness Tony can’t put his finger on. “I forgot it’s date night. I’ll call back tomorrow.”

“It’s fine, Peter,” Pepper quickly says before he can hang up. “What do you want to talk to me about?” More silence. Something Pepper had dubbed Peter Panic – the kind of frenzy panic Tony always gets whenever a certain spider-boy is involved – starts spreading inside him. Without thinking about it, he pulls up Peter’s vitals – or tries to, at least. He’s not in his suit, hasn’t been for hours. More panic. “Peter?”

On the other line, Peter takes a deep breath. “I know you’re in charge of all the bureaucratic stuff and all that, and- I’m really sorry for asking, but I need my internship to be a paid position.”

Tony and Pepper share a look. Peter never _ever_ asks for money. They tried to give him some on multiple occasions, one way or the other; a paid position, a bonus, a special gift. He always rejects them, saying he isn’t doing this for money, it feels wrong to take it, it’s too much to accept it, etcetera, etcetera. And now, without any preamble, without a single, exiguous hint, he’s asking for money?

Something is wrong. Something must have happened.

Pepper’s voice is warm and calm, with absolutely no indication that she’s worried. “Of course. We already offered you one weeks ago.” Peter doesn’t comment, and Tony’s mind is racing. Pepper lays her hand on his to keep him calm. For the first time since, well, _ever_ , it’s not working. “Do you want to talk about the details?”

“I –“ he takes a shaky breath, and clears his throat. “I don’t think so. I just need a certification as soon as possible.” Tony has to draw a deep breath to stay calm, his hands gripping the table so tight, his knuckles turned white. The only reason he isn’t screaming and demanding answers is that he knows that Peter probably will not answer them if he does. It takes a lot for the boy to ask for anything at all. Showing any negative reaction, no matter what it’s aimed at, will most likely backfire. “And I … I want to ask about lawyers.”

Tony is close to hyperventilating now. Why is he asking for money and about lawyers? Every atom in his body screams at him to suit up and fly to him and fix whatever happened. To demand answers, to demand them _now_ , because he needs to know what’s going on. Pepper gives him a pointed look, silently asking him to let her handle this. He can’t open his mouth. He’ll most likely start screaming if he does. Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on the noises in the background. They sound familiar. “What do you want to know?”

“Do you know any good ones that aren’t too expensive? I think – I think I can scrape about three hundred bucks together, but –“ Peter voice breaks.

Tony’s patience breaks. “Peter, where are you? What’s going on? Why do you need money and a lawyer?”

“Mr. Stark,” he says, but it comes out as a sob.

The mechanic’s heart aches _so_ bad. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Pepper scrolling through her phone, most likely looking for their lawyer Johnson. “I’m here. Talk to me.” This time, Peter really sobs. He tries to hide it, but fails miserably. “Where are you? I need you to answer me.”

“Hospital,” he answers. Tony is standing in an instant, calling his suit to him, and asking FRIDAY to locate Peter’s phone. Pepper gets up, too, still focused on the device in her hands, but sporting her usual, badass business demeanor.

“I’m on my way, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just sit tight.”

“There was an accident and- ,” Peter continues, his voice wet and so, _so_ shaky. Tony stops. His mind connects the dots. No. He doesn’t want to hear what comes next. He can feel it in his bones, can feel the overwhelming sadness, can feel the unbelievable cruelty of the world. Why does such a sweet boy like him deserve so much grief and tragedy in his life? “May is- She’s –“ The rest of the sentence is swallowed by a violent sob, but they don’t need to hear it. Pepper gasps, grabbing Tony’s arm, either for his sake or hers. Tony’s heart is shattered in a million pieces. There is only a single thought on his mind: he needs to get to Peter. Now.

“I’m coming to you, Peter. I’ll be there before you know it, okay?” Peter mumbles something about a doctor coming to him and ends the call.

For a split second, neither of them moves, too floored by what just happened. Then, the moment is over and Tony turns to her, his mind already made up. “Pepper, I can’t-“

She shakes her head. “I know. And I’m on board.” A small, sad smile tucks on her lips. “The Tower would be awfully quiet without him. Go. I’ll have Happy drive me there, and deal with the rest.” Tony loves this woman. He can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. He gives her hand a quick squeeze, and dashes to the nearest balcony where his suit is already waiting for him.

It takes nearly seven minutes for him to get to the hospital. He lands in an alleyway, steps out of the suit, and runs inside the building. His glasses navigate him to the location of Peter’s phone, and with every step he takes, his heartrate picks up. Tony doesn’t really have a plan other than make sure Peter is okay. No matter what it will take, though in the back of his head, he already knows what that means.

Peter sits in an otherwise empty corridor on some really uncomfortably looking chairs. His face is pale, except for a few bright red blotches on his cheeks. He doesn’t appear to be injured. Physically, at least, but he’s probably in some kind of shock. His gaze is empty and far away, and he’s perfectly still, which is something Tony has never see him do before. Tony wants desperately to run over to him and engulf him in a hug that makes him forget all of his worries, but something stops him.

Instead, he approaches him cautiously, opting to crouch down in front of him. Peter’s gaze is going right through him. “Peter?” he asks in a soft voice, and puts a hand on his arm.

For a long moment, it looks like Peter didn’t hear him. Then, he finally says: “I don’t know how to do taxes.” Tony doesn’t interrupt him. It’s not too hard to figure out what Peter wants to do. He lost his legal guardian. He’s asking for a paid position, and a document that proves it. He’s asking for a lawyer. He wants to emancipate himself. “Or what kind of insurances I need. And I’m really bad at doing the laundry. Or cooking. All I can do is reheat leftovers and cook frozen meals. May always reminds- … reminded me to eat greens and veggies, but I don’t know how to cook them. Or how to store them. What if everything I buy just addles?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Tony says, even though he isn’t sure Peter hears a word he’s saying. “We’ll have FRIDAY look everything up and make a list.”

“There is a convention next month. Ned and I planned to go. May was supposed to drive us there.”

“Happy can drive you.”

It looks like Peter wants to continue, but he stops. His eyes snap to Tony’s, finally recognizing the man in front of him. It takes Tony everything to stay still, to be strong for Peter, because the boy looks _miserable_. “May is dead,” he whispers with a broken voice.

The stupor breaks. Peter shakes uncontrollably as tears stream down his face, and Tony doesn’t even hesitate for a heartbeat before he pulls him in for a fierce hug. He whispers comforting nonsense, saying how sorry he is, that it’s okay to cry, to feel grief, that he isn’t alone, but he doubts Peter can hear his words over the sobs. He clings to him with such a tight grip, Tony is pretty sure the seams of his jacket rip. For a while – it feels like it could be everything from a few minutes to an eternity – they stay like this, Peter drowning in his grief and sadness, and Tony doing his best to hold his pieces together.

“I can’t go into foster care,” Peter sobs into his shoulder. “I can’t-can’t live with strangers. I just- I can’t.”

“You don’t have to live with strangers,” Tony reassures him.

“Th-That’s why I need the lawyer and the paid position.”

Tony’s heart is beating way too fast. Memories of his own childhood flash before his eyes. Doubts of his ability to be a father for any living being haunt him. The urge to make sure Peter is safe overwrites them all. “You don’t need to emancipate, Peter. You can live with us. With Pepper and me in the Tower.”

The boy stills and slowly looks up to his mentor. Tony wants to wrap him in a blanket and shield him from all the bad things in the world, but he just holds his gaze. “For how long?”

His next words should feel heavy. They should be difficult to say. But in this moment, they’re rolling off the tongue. “Forever, if you want to.” Peter blinks, a few stray tears that pooled in his eyes rolling down his cheeks. Tony quickly brushes them away. “Or just until the morning. However long you want or need. Whatever you want to do, I’ll always be there for you. You’re not alone, Peter.”

Peter doesn’t answer him. His eyes well up, and he buries his face in Tony’s shoulder, crying again. Tony just holds him, unable to do anything else. But he truly means what he said. Whatever Peter will decide to do, Tony will always be a step behind him to catch him if he tumbles and falls, and cheer for him when he succeeds. He just prays it’ll be enough.


	4. The Parasite

Peter is almost asleep when he crawls through the hatch – Tony calls it the Spider Door because _it’s just like dog door, only for the Spider-Baby. Don’t make that face, I thought you love corny puns_ – that leads directly to the penthouse of the Tower. He has spent the entire day patrolling, and while he’s very happy that he could help so many people, he’s ready to fall into his bed, face first, not even taking off the suit, and sleep for hours – nay, _days_.

His super-metabolism has another plan, though. The rumbles of his stomach are so loud, it’s actually embarrassing. With his last bit of energy, Peter pulls his mask off and drags himself into the kitchen to raid the fridge for leftovers. But, apparently, he isn’t the only one looking for a late-night-snack (or full-sized meal, in his case).

“Oh, hi Miss Potts,” Peter greets her while suppressing a yawn. “I didn’t know you’re still up.”

She gives him a small, but genuine smile. “My workday never ends. That’s probably the reason Tony dumped the company on me.” Peter laughs at the humor in her voice, and she smiles into her steaming cup while typing something in her StarkPad, a plate with very healthy-looking veggies to snack on next to her. How can she look this professional and put together while chilling in a kitchen wearing sweatpants? “We put some dinner for you in the fridge. Enough to feed a small army.”

“Awesome, thank you so much!” He grins and leaps to the fridge, already way more exciting for his meal. May is visiting an old school friend in Nebraska, and Tony has offered to let Peter stay at the Tower during her time away. Given that it’s his summer break, Peter spend most of his time in the lab with Tony anyway, so it works out pretty well. Pepper has been equally excited about the idea, especially because she always says that Peter has a calming effect on the genius – and he needs that right now. Their wedding, their _actual_ wedding, is less than four weeks away and, of course, Tony is panicking, even though he would never admit that.

However, he isn’t the only one. Pepper is acting strange, too. She’s unusual moody and stressed, which is totally un-Pepper-like. She managed events way bigger than their relative private wedding. She dealt with crisis that had other people in tears without breaking a sweat. Something like this shouldn’t stress her so much. But it’s probably different because it’s her own wedding. Peter knows that Tony worries about her. Although he’s joking that his bride is about to get cold feet and blow the entire thing off, he actually has three back-up plans to elope with her if the pressure gets too much.

Peter pulls out the dinner – a gigantic bowl of pasta – sneaks a noodle into his mouth because he just can’t resist, and puts it in the microwave, setting the timer to two minutes. As soon as the countdown starts, two minutes seems like an _eternity_. The boy is positive that he’s going to starve before his dinner is warm. He closes his eyes in annoyance, debating if he should just eat it as ice cold as it is right now, and listening to the low drum of the microwave, Pepper’s fingernails against the StarkPad, the three heartbeats, the –

His eyes fly open at once. _Three_ heartbeats? What? That can’t be right. It’s only him and Pepper in the kitchen, no one else. A mistake. He has to be mistaken, after all, he’s tired and very hungry. It’s probably just an echo or something. Determined to prove himself wrong, Peter listens again, absolutely sure that he’s going to hear two hearts.

There are still three heartbeats. His, Peppers, and one that isn’t as strong as the other ones, but definitely there. And it’s coming from Pepper’s direction. The realization hits him like a train. He whirls around, completely forgetting about his dinner, and stares at Pepper. Of course, she notices him, and gives him a confused stare. “Peter? Is everything okay?”

He can’t answer. Instead, he steps closer as if he were in a trance. The small heartbeat is getting louder, undoubtedly coming from the exact same spot Pepper is in. “I…” Peter doesn’t even know how to end that sentence. How do you end a sentence like that? What do you even say in a situation like this?

Pepper’s confusion turns into concern. Setting the tablet aside, she gets up from the stool, and walks over to him. Peter can’t help but stare at her stomach. This is unreal. Like, is this a dream? One of the really realistic ones? The CEO puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Peter, can you hear me? Did you get hurt? What’s going on?”

He just shakes his head, and slowly looks up to her. Does she know? Is that why she’s been so stressed lately? Peter is suddenly very aware that he has very limited knowledge of the symptoms. He goes to a school that focuses on _science_. He should know more about this. Maybe then he would have an idea about what he should do. Pepper is still looking at him, waiting for an answer. Peter doesn’t know what to say. Should he tell her? Should he keep quiet? What’s the proper etiquette in a situation like that?

Besides, maybe he really is wrong. There can be more than one explanation for this. “Miss Potts, you don’t happen to have one of those parasites or worms that like, live in your intestines and grow really big like, _really_ big, and eat all your food, so you just starve?”

Pepper stares at him for a long moment, probably wondering if he hit his head and lost his mind. Eventually, she says: “No, I don’t have a parasite living inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure, yes.” Peter’s stomach drops, as well as his eyes back to Pepper’s stomach. “Why do you ask?”

He can’t keep quiet. He’s not sure if it’s excitement or something else that makes him panicky. The words blur out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Because there’s a heartbeat. I mean, _another_ heartbeat. There’s yours, and mine, and… another one.” To make it clear what he’s trying to say, he gives her stomach another, very pointed look.

Pepper Potts looks confused for a fraction of a second, before she actually blanches. Subconsciously, her hand travels to her stomach, resting a bit over the spot the heartbeat is coming from. Peter’s own heart is beating so loudly in his chest, it almost drowns out the other two. “Another heartbeat?” she echoes. Peter nods. “And you’re sure it’s…” She’s not finishing her sentence either, which has to be bad. Miss Potts always knows what to say. And Peter can’t answer her question, because he has absolutely no idea what she wants to know. He’s not sure about _anything_.

“I mean, I _could_ be wrong,” he hastily says, feeling the familiar nervous energy rising inside his chest. “I’m not a doctor. You should probably go see a doctor, and not listening to a word I say. It could be a parasite you don’t know about? Well, I actually never heard the heartbeat of bugs or worms or stuff like that, sometimes the ones of dogs and cats, but never other ones. But, like, I haven’t really tried to hear them either, so maybe I just talking nonsense right now. Or were you supposed to have a twin, but you ate them in the womb, like sharks do – not that you’re a shark –, and somehow their heart survived and –“

“Peter, you’re panicking,” Pepper says. “You need to stop. Right now.” That’s a bit hypocritical, because she looks very panicky herself.

Peter can’t stop. He’s too far gone. “I really didn’t mean to say anything, but it really surprised me, and I’m really bad at hiding secrets, and I don’t know what to do and – oh my God, do you need to sit down? You should probably sit down. Do you have weird cravings? Because I can totally just go to the next store and get you anything you like, as long as it’s not over ten bucks because I spent a lot of money on that new Lego set last week and –“

“Peter, stop.” She grabs his shoulders a bit too tight, her face a hardened mask, very much like the one she wears in business negotiations. “Tony is in his lab. If your heartrate goes up any further, he’s coming here.”

“ _Boss is already on his way_ ,” FRIDAY says, and the AI almost sounds sympathetic. “ _Both yours and Mr. Parker’s heartrates have passed the normal parameters_.”

Pepper looks less than pleased, scrunching her face in a way Peter has never seen before. At once, he feels guilty. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to alert Mr. Stark, but I –“

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” It’s completely his fault. If he’d just kept quiet, this wouldn’t have happened. For a moment, they just stand there in tense silence. You know a situation is bad when Pepper Potts doesn’t know what to do. Peter remembers his pasta in the microwave, but food seems like the least important thing right now.

Pepper makes a decision; Peter can see it in the way she straightens her back and raises her chin. “Are you absolutely sure it’s a heartbeat?” Peter shrugs, not wanting to give a verbal answer. To his surprise, she beckons him over, pointing to her stomach. “Then listen closer.”

Suddenly, it feels like the world rests on his shoulders. “I-I-I’m not a doctor. I could make a mistake.”

She gives him an encouraging smile. “Your ears are better than any ultrasound. I trust you.”

Heat rises into Peter’s cheeks, and he steps closer, leaning down to get closer to her stomach, and listens. A strong, rhythmical beating he has heard thousands of times. There’s no denying it. It’s a heartbeat. Without even meaning to do it, Peter smiles and nods. When he looks up, Pepper gives him a weird look, but it’s a happy-weird, not this-is-a-catastrophe-weird.

Tony enters the kitchen in this exact moment, looking frantically from one to the other. “What’s going on? What happened? Why are you panicking?” Neither of them gets a chance to answer. He’s already next to them, looking them up and down, checking for anything unusual. “Peter, did you get hurt on patrol? And don’t try to lie to me, I can make Karen tell me everything.”

“I’m fine,” he says, but his voice is weirdly full of emotions, making him sound everything but fine.

“Yeah, no, usually whenever you say you’re fine, you’re the complete opposite of fine. So, spill it. Is it a stab wound? Was it a gun? Is the bullet still inside your body? Did Pepper already mob up all the blood? Honey, you can’t encourage his reckless behavior.”

“Peter isn’t hurt,” Pepper answers and smiles a bit. “I didn’t mob up any blood.”

Tony looks from his fiancée to his mentee and back. “You’re both acting very suspicious. What happened? FRIDAY said your vitals were weird.”

For a second, time stands still, giving Pepper a moment to brace herself. “Peter heard a heartbeat that wasn’t supposed to be there.”

At once, Tony raises his hand, his watch already morphing into a gauntlet, and looks around the kitchen, ready to shot the first person that comes into his sight. “Did someone break in? FRIDAY would’ve noticed them.” Pepper just takes his hand – the one without the gauntlet – and places it on her stomach. Tony doesn’t understand. “Pepper, what’s going on? Why-“

Then, he understands. He isn’t a genius just for fun. His eyes widen, and he keeps staring at the place his hand lays, like he can’t believe his own thoughts. “Are you saying that- … Are you- … Is it- Is it what I think it is?”

Peter has to physically clap his hands over his mouth to stop himself from talking. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Pepper smiles, one that lights up the room and makes her as radiant as the sun. “I’m pregnant.” Tony continues to stare, not even blinking, obviously still trying to process everything. Pepper doesn’t make it easier, starting to smile cheekily. “Probably. That or it’s a giant parasite that lives in my stomach and starves me. Or a secret twin I ate in the womb.”

“You should _really_ see a doctor,” Peter chimes up. Despite the heat that turns his entire face into a tomato, he can’t help but smile. Finally, Tony breaks his stupor and pulls Pepper in for a kiss that is, frankly, a bit uncomfortable to watch, so Peter just _re_ -reheats his dinner.

It’s not a parasite or an eaten twin, but indeed a child that grows in Pepper’s stomach. Tony immediately starts planning a nursery, putting a giant stuffed bunny in there, which Pepper, for some reason, doesn’t like at all. When Morgan is born, Peter calls her bug – or parasite if she’s being especially impudent – and tells her the story of how he was the first one that knew about her. He never gets tired of listening to her heartbeat, and he never even tries to hide his smile when he does.


	5. The Yacht

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this post](https://whitepeopletwitter.tumblr.com/post/190199274641).

“HELP! PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP ME!” Peter screams from the top of his lungs, but it’s barely audible. His voice is hoarse from hours of screaming for help. The ever-present murmur of the waves is a lot louder than he anticipated. Not that any of that really matters, because no one is close enough to hear him. Peter lost sight of the shore literally hours ago – back when it was around noon. This is the worst case of Parker Luck he’s ever had.

Midtown High offered a trip to California during their summer break. Ned and Peter both signed up in a heartbeat, excited to get out of the city for a bit. Even Flash being part of the trip hasn’t dimmed their excitement, promising each other they will just ignore them. They didn’t ignore him.

Well, Ned did.

Peter didn’t. Which has been a fatal mistake.

They were at the beach, watching some people surf when Flash loudly said that Peter could never do that. Normally, Peter would ignore all his bullying and jabs, but this time he couldn’t. Maybe he got a heatstroke, maybe it was his vacation high, maybe it was because his impulse control – May – was still in Queens, maybe he just wanted to prove that he could do something cool; whatever it was, he accepted the challenge. Ignoring Ned telling him that he shouldn’t do it, ignoring MJ’s stares that told him he was an idiot, ignoring Mr. Harrington’s warning to not do something he isn’t capable of, he grabbed a surfboard and went into the ocean.

The good news: He actually managed to stand up and ride a wave and thusly proving Flash wrong.

The bad news: It all went to hell after that.

Just when Peter thought he got the hang of it, he fell. But instead of floating back to the surface, a current grabbed him, pulled him under again and again, further and further away from the shore. When he finally managed to get out of that current, holding on to the surfboard that was somehow still with him, all he could see was the endless ocean.

For hours, Peter screamed for help. He cried, then remembered that it’ll lead to dehydration faster and tried to stop. Luckily, there were some clouds in the sky, protecting him somewhat from the unforgiving sun. Peter tried to not think about sharks or giant squid or falling asleep and drowning or starving or die of thirst or landing on an unknown island inhabited by cannibals, and instead told himself that help would come soon. Mr. Harrington is a worrywart, he would definitely have called some kind of police or something. Any second now, a speed boat with unusually attractive lifeguards in bright red trunks and bathing suits will pull up and save him while something explodes in the distance.

But no one comes. If the situation would be any different, Peter would have enjoyed the beautiful sunset he witnessed, or the bright night sky, clear of clouds with thousands of stars and a bright moon. However, the situation isn’t different. No sunset or starry night sky, no matter how beautiful, could drive away the fear inside him that grows with every passing second.

“HELP ME! SOMEBODY! I’M OUT HERE!”

What if he never sees his family again? Oh, how he wishes he stayed in their stuffy apartment, trying to ignore the heat by eating tons of ice cream and drinking iced tea.

“PLEASE! HELP! I’M STUCK!” His voice breaks, finally giving in after hours of endless screaming. Tears spring back into his eyes, a sob tearing through his sore throat.

Then, suddenly, he notices a flash of something. Peter’s head shoots up, eyes focusing on the unusual light dancing on the water. He blinks, his heart jumping up and down in his chest, filling his entire body with hope. A boat. There’s a boat. Somebody is out there.

“HEY!” Peter screams, summoning new strength in him to get his voice loud enough to carry across the water, waving his arms in the air, hoping they can see him in the moon light. “HEY! HELP! I NEED HELP!”

Someone must have listened to all his desperate prayers, because the boat turns towards him, coming closer and closer. Peter is aware that he’s crying again, but he doesn’t care. Not at all. Because he isn’t going to die. He’s going to see his family and his friends – heck, even Flash – again. And he’s never _ever_ going surfing again.

The boat seems to be some fancy yacht, but Peter isn’t paying that much attention to it or the persons standing on the lowered platform at the back of the boat, too busy trying to get his emotions under control. As soon as he’s close enough, two strong hands grab his upper arm, all but lifting him onto the boat. “C’mon, buddy, let’s get you out of the water.”

Peter can only nod as he tries to stand on his legs again, but they almost give out under him. Luckily, the hands are still there to steady him, keeping him upright as he nearly falls forward against his savior. “Th-Thank you so much,” Peter begins to say, breathing heavily to keep himself from breaking down in tears again, “thank you so, _so_ _much_! I-“

He looks up, right in the face of the person who’s holding him upright.

It’s Tony Stark.

Peter is dead. That has to be the only reason. He died – maybe a shark ate him or he drowned or starved – and this is a reaper or god or something who takes him to the other side. To be honest, Peter never really was a very religious man, but if they appear in the form of Tony Stark, he can get behind that.

“Are you injured?” Tony Stark – _Tony Stark! Iron Man!_ – asks, looking him up and down. Peter can’t answer. Does it matter if you’re hurt in the afterlife? “Let’s get you warmed up, you’re as cold as an ice cube.” Suddenly, there’s an incredibly soft blanket around Peter’s shoulders. “How long have you been out here anyway? Who are you? What have you been doing out in the ocean with that sorry excuse of a surfboard?”

“Tony, stop it,” someone says, stepping into Peter’s sight. “This is not the time to interrogate him.” The someone is Pepper Potts who turns around and smiles softly at him, looking like the angel she most likely is because Peter is most definitely dead and this is heaven. What other explanation could there be for him standing right in front of _Tony Stark_ and _Pepper Potts_? “How about a nice, warm shower, and then some food? We have plenty.”

“I’m dead,” Peter whispers, still staring at the two celebrities.

Tony Stark makes a buzzer noise, loud and obnoxious, which earns him a not-amused glance from the woman beside him. “Wrong, you’re not dead. A few hours later and you might be, but right now, you’re as alive as one can be. Preferably a bit warmer and better fed, but we’re working on that.”

“But you’re…” Peter doesn’t finish his sentence and just keeps looking at them.

“Yes, I’m Tony and this is the wonderful, amazing, absolutely stellar-“ a warning glance, “Pepper. You may know us from TV, they really like to talk about all the ways I mess up, and Pepper over here likes to remind them all of their mistakes.”

“I don’t like it,” Pepper throws in. “I love it.”

“She loves it, even better. That guy up there is Happy, he’s actually the one who saw you.” Peter lets his eyes wander up to the main deck of the yacht and sees a man who doesn’t look one bit like his name. “But I can reassure you that you’re, in fact, not dead, kiddo.”

“I’m not dead?” he repeats because there’s nothing else he can do besides continuing to shiver.

“Nope,” Tony answers, popping the p. “Very much alive. Now, how about that shower?”

“And some warm clothes,” Pepper throws in, lying a hand on his shoulder to stir him to the stairs. Peter moves in a trance, still not completely sure if this is some kind of death vision or reality. The main deck of the yacht looks like it jumped straight out some high-class magazine. Thinking about it, the yacht has probably been in a magazine already. However, despite it being so impressive, Peter can’t really concentrate on it.

Pepper leads him to a bathroom that bigger than their bathroom in Queens and faucets shining in a bright red and decadent gold. “Take all the time you need. We’re already on the way back to the shore, but it might take a little while.”

“I have no clothes,” is the only thing on Peter’s mind, standing in that bathroom, dripping on the marbled floor, and clutching the blanket against his chest.

“But I do,” Tony answers, suddenly appearing behind Pepper and shoving his way into the room, a stack of clothes in his hand. “Problem solved, kiddo.” He grins brightly, but Peter can only blink. How can this be real life? This has to be heaven. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Peter. Peter Parker.”

“Well, Peter Parker, get warmed up. There’s a cheeseburger with your name on it waiting for you afterwards.”

About twenty minutes later, after he washed off all the salt on his skin, the cold in his bones, and the fear in his heart, Peter steps out onto the main deck, following the sound of soft laughter and smell of mouthwatering food. He’s wearing sweatpants and a dark sweater with a faded MIT logo – if he would have his phone, he would’ve taken at least twenty pictures of him wearing _Tony Stark’s_ clothes.

“Peter,” Pepper calls him the second she sees him, beckoning over to the table they’re sitting at, “come join us, please.”

Peter isn’t about to say no to Pepper Potts – literally no one can do that. “Thank you so much again,” he says as he sits down next to Tony, “like, I can’t thank you enough. Thank you. Thank you!”

“How about you thank us by eating something?” Tony asks with a small smile, and pushes a plate of food closer to him. Normally, Peter would be too shy to eat in front of these two people, but he’s _starving_. Tony snorts in amusement. “Look at that. You’ve been out there for quite a while, huh?”

“Since noon,” he mumbles around two bites of food, not noticing the shocked look on the adults faces, to busy eating the best burger he ever had in his life.

“You’re from New York, right?” Tony asks, obviously avoiding the a-teenager-almost-died-on-the-ocean-conversation which Peter is very thankful for. With his mouth full of a bite of the delicious cheeseburger, Peter just nods. “School trip?” Another nod. “What kind of elementary school sends their students to the other side of the country?”

“I’m not in elementary school,” Peter defends himself against the good-natured joke, cheeks heating up regardless. “I go to Midtown School of Science and Technology.”

“Really?” Tony’s eyebrows basically disappear in his hair. “You’re a little nerd?” Peter’s cheeks are burning, but before he can even think of a response that’ll make him look cool, Tony waves his hand dismissively and smirks. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll let you in on a secret: I’m a bit of a nerd, too.”

“A bit?” Pepper asks with her own smirk pulling at her lips and taking a sip from her wine.

Tony ignores her, which seems to be some sort of miracle. “You must be pretty smart to go to a school like that, kiddo.” Peter, never one who’s good at accepting compliments, shrugs and devours the rest of his burger in favor of answering the question. “Any clubs?”

“Yeah, uh, band, robotic lab’s club, and Academic Decathlon.” The second the words left his lips, Peter wishes he would’ve lied. Why didn’t he say he’s the star quarterback or something? It’s not like freaking Iron Man would ever find out he lied.

However, Tony smile only widens. “Robots, huh? I have a few of those, you would love them. Now, seeing that you’ve basically inhaled all of that in a heartbeat, have some more.”

When they eventually get back to the shore, Peter expects to be dropped off at the peer so that they can return to their original plan for the evening. But instead, a very flashy sportscar is waiting for him, Tony ushering him inside, telling him he’s driving him back to the hotel he’s staying at. Still not really believing that this is real, Peter stutters out five more thank you’s and a shy goodbye to Pepper before getting into the car.

The drive to the hotel isn’t long which Peter is low-key disappointed about. Being around Tony Stark, listening to him ranting about the behavior of the robots he built and singing along to really old music, is surprisingly easy and relaxing. When they step into the relatively small lobby, they’re greeted by almost everyone of Peter’s classmates, all huddled together in front of the TV with their phones in their hands, waiting for some news.

Ned is the first one to see him. Peter thinks his friend might start crying. Not that he’s judging him, Peter thinks he’s about to cry, too. “Peter!”

Before Ned can even get up from his chair, Mr. Harrington sprints over to him, slamming Peter’s head against his sternum at an uncomfortable angle. “Thank God, you’re okay! I can’t lose another student!” He lets go of Peter’s head just as abruptly as he grabbed it. “I don’t want you to do something like that ever again, you hear me?”

“I don’t plan to, Sir.”

“Well, looks like you’re back in capable hands, kiddo,” Tony jokes next to him. The entire room of over-excited teenagers falls silent as the bunch of literal nerds (just look at the school they’re attending) realizes that one of the greatest minds alive is in their presence.

“You-You found him?” Mr. Harrington eventually asks. Peter hears Ned whisper a breathless _Oh my God that’s Iron Man._

“Yeah, we were out on our yacht and spotted him. Couldn’t just leave him out there, could we?” To Peter’s surprise – as if his day hasn’t had enough surprises – Tony gives him another blinding smile and ruffles his hair. “It was nice to meet you, Peter. Stay away from the ocean, okay? I might not always get to you if you’re out there again.”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” Peter only stutters, “thank you so much again.”

“Don’t mention it. Bye nerds!” he shouts to the other students, who all echo various replies, turns around and leaves.

Only when he’s out of the door, Peter can break out of his stupor, remembering a crucial detail and bolting after him. “Mr. Stark! Wait!”

The genius does wait next to his car, turning back around just as Peter stops in front of him. “What’s the matter? You don’t have to thank me again, the first one hundred times were sufficient.”

“No, it’s not about that.” He points to the sweater. “I just- I’m still wearing your clothes.” Tony looks at the clothes and blinks, like he already forgot that Peter is wearing his stuff. “How can I get them back to you? And I’ll clean them before returning them, of course, I mean-“

“Relax, kid,” Tony interrupts him, pulling out a small card and a pen, writing something on it before basically shoving it into his hands. “Just give me a call when you’re back home. I’ll probably be somewhere in the city, and then we can meet up.”

Did he… Did Peter just get Tony Stark’s private phone number? Oh, he’s definitely dead. This can’t be real. Even his wildest dreams aren’t filled with getting Iron Man’s _private phone number_. “I-…” Peter doesn’t know what to say. What do you say in a situation like this?

“Don’t be a stranger,” Tony says, climbing in his car and starting the engine. “And stay away from the ocean!” Just like that, he speeds off, leaving Peter standing there, wondering if he had the worst or the best day of his life.


	6. Tony and Peter on Ellen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> Irondad and his Spiderson are guests at Ellen answering some popular fan questions and playing "who knows the other better" game 
> 
> and
> 
> Please continue the Ellen show. It's hilarious.

“Welcome back everyone,” Ellen said directly into the camera, while the cheers of her audiences died away, “my guests are still Tony Stark and Peter Parker, who – if you haven’t watched the news the last couple of days – will be his successor and head of the R&D department of Stark Industries in a few years.” The TV host turned to the teenager. “Peter, you’ve been Tony’s personal intern for over a year now, so I guess you’ve spent quite some time together.”

“Yes,” Peter said, smiling nervously. The boy was a complete wreck. Tony had tried to calm him down, reassuring him that everything would be fine, that he would be by his side the whole time and that everyone would love him. It seemed like his little speech had had absolutely no effect.

“You two must know each other pretty well, then.”

Tony snorted, trying to move the attention from the boy to himself. “Maybe _too_ well.” The audience laughed and Peter blushed.

“That’s perfect, because I’ve prepared a little game for you,” Ellen explained and pulled out two small boards from beside her chair, handing each of them one together with a pen. “So, I’ll be asking you some questions our audience wrote down for you two and both of you will write down the answer. Then we’ll see if they match.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” Tony said, lightly bumping into Peter’s shoulder. “We got this, right?”

“Y-Yeah.” Peter smiled, eyes on the board, fiddling with the pen in his hand, obviously still very nervous.

“Okay, we start with an easy one,” Ellen cleared her throat and looked down at the card in her hand. “What is Tony’s favorite band?”

“Seriously?” The billionaire quickly looked around the room with a mock-disappointed look. “You could just google it.” He quickly wrote down his answer, seeing out of the corner of his eyes that Peter was already finished. On Ellen’s cue, they both turned around their boards. The audience screamed with laughter. Not exactly the reaction Tony had expected. He looked down at his own board with _AC/DC_ written across it and then over to Peter’s. For a second, he couldn’t believe his eyes. “ _Led Zeppelin_?”

“Isn’t that what you’re always listening to?” Peter looked genuinely confused.

“No! Why would you even think that?”

Peter shrugged. “They all sound the same to me.”

“ _They all sound the_ \- … Ellen, next question. Please, before I have to find a new successor.” The host and the audience laughed again, while the two geniuses cleaned their boards.

“Okay, next one: Who is Peter’s favorite superhero?”

Peter started to write down his answer, but Tony hesitated for a second. He wanted to write down Iron Man because he knew the kid was a fan. But he also almost passed out when he’d met Steve. Or Bruce. Or Rhodey. Or Natasha. He literally forgot how to speak the first time he’d seen the god of thunder. Even though it hurt his ego a bit – _a lot_ – he wrote down _Thor_ and turned around his board.

They were wrong again. But this time, Tony couldn’t help but smile.

“Thor isn’t your favorite, Peter?” Ellen asked.

He didn’t look in Tony’s direction, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I mean he’s really cool, a literal god, but he’s no Iron Man.”

The billionaire didn’t get a chance to get a witty comeback in there, because Ellen already moved on to the next question. “Let’s turn it around, shall we? Who is Tony’s favorite superhero?”

This time, Tony was the one who didn’t hesitate to write down his answer. Peter, however, pulled his eyebrows together, clearly deep in thought, before slowly writing something on his board, making sure the man beside him couldn’t get a look at it. When they revealed their answers, Peter leaned forward to get a better look at his mentor’s answer. His mouth fell open and Tony threw his arm across the back of their couch, squeezing Peter’s shoulder inconspicuously. _Hulk_ was written on Peter’s board. _Spider-Man_ was on Tony’s, accompanied with a little spider drawn next to it. Peter’s eyes snapped to his, silently asking him if he was serious. Tony smiled back and squeezed his shoulder again.

“Tony, you’re a fan of Spider-Man?” Ellen asked, interrupting their silent conversation.

“Oh yeah, big time. I made him a suit and everything. Spider-Man will be the next big hit – as soon as he’s allowed to drink something else than juice boxes.” The audience roared with laughter and Peter’s cheeks were turning red again, but he was still smiling.

Ellen waited until the noise had settled down again. “I thought you know each other well? But you got everything wrong until now.”

“C’mon, the game isn’t over yet. Ask me about his favorite movie, I know that for sure. He made me watch it way too many times.”

The crowd cheered when both Peter and Tony had _Star Wars – A New Hope_ written across their boards. Tony gave them a wink and Peter smiled shyly, quickly cleaning his board again. “So, you’ve mentioned that you’ve watched the movie together,” Ellen said, lazily gesturing to Tony’s board. “Is that part of a normal internship at SI? Watching movies with the boss?”

The billionaire laughed along with everyone else. “I feel like I should say yes, so we’ll getting more job applications, but no, it’s not normal. However, sometimes you’re stuck with a problem and need a little break.” He shrugged. “I mean, my movie room is close to my lab. It’s convenient.”

To Tony’s surprise, Peter snorted next to him. “It’s not a movie room, Mr. Stark, it’s literally a small theatre.”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not! There’s a big screen and a proper projector.” Peter turned to Ellen, like he was going to share a secret with her. “He even got those red curtains to draw close.” Ellen and the audience laughed, while Tony pretended to be offended. He was anything but, though. In fact, he was quite proud. He didn’t know what prompted the boy to get out of his shell, but he was glad that he did.

“I think we have time for one more question,” the host said, looking down at her last card. She chuckled softly, before turning to her guests. “Which one of you is the responsible one?”

Both the geniuses snorted, wrote down their answer and turned the boards around. _Neither_. The audience roared with laughter, as did Ellen, and Tony and Peter shared a knowing smile.

It took about a minute before it was quiet enough for anyone to speak again. “Neither of you?” Ellen asked. “What’s up with that answer?”

“Well, to be fair, I’m still legally a child, so I don’t have to be the responsible one,” Peter said, giving the camera a charming smile. Tony knew in this exact moment that the public and the press would love him. How could they not? The billionaire had yet to meet someone that didn’t love the boy after talking to him for five minutes.

“I’m pretty sure that if you look up the definition of irresponsibility, there’s a picture of my handsome face, so …” Tony shrugged. “Does anyone honestly think I’m responsible?” He looked at the audience that just cheered again, not giving him a clear answer.

“It’s because you’re old,” Peter answered, his patented little-shit-grin on his face. There was a collective _uh_ coming from the crowd. Tony had to work very hard to keep his face straight.

“You’re on lab cleaning duty until you’re legally an adult,” Tony deadpanned, nudging his mentee’s shoulder.

“Oh, c’mon Mr. Stark!”

“Nope. I already made up my mind. You’re only working with a non-electronic, old-fashioned broom for the foreseeable future. And don’t even think about asking the robots to help you. They would just make it worse anyway.”

“How is your tower still standing?” Ellen asked amused.

“Pepper,” Tony answered at the same time as Peter said: “Miss Potts.” The studio was filled with laughter again. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for my absolutely amazing fiancée, everything concerning SI would be a very different story.” The public always loved it when he was talking about Pepper, and this time was no exception. They _aww_ ’d, some of them clapping and Tony blew a kiss in the camera.

“Tony, Peter, thank you so much for coming on my show,” Ellen said as she got the cue from one of the assistances to wrap it up. “It was a pleasure to have you. Peter, I wish you the best of luck for your finals.”

“Thank you so much, Ellen,” Peter thanked her, his face bright red again.

Tony threw his arm around his shoulder again, squeezing him against his side. “He doesn’t need luck. He’ll ace them.”

“I’m sure he will.” The TV host smiled at Peter, who was suddenly very interested in his knees. “We’ll be right back!”


	7. Karen wants to help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> *drops in a prompt* We've seen the stories of how Tony helps Peter deal with Flash's bullying or showing up at school to prove the internship exists or that he really does know Peter. But how about having Karen take on the challenge of helping Peter with that instead? How would a young AI created to look after Spider-Man handle Peter Parker's problems? ;D

“Hey, Parker!” Peter tried to ignore Flash, but that had never worked before, so why should it work today? “Are you going to your _fake_ internship?” He was, in fact, on the way to the Tower to work with Tony in his lab, but Flash wouldn’t believe him anyway. “Don’t you think it’s about time you just drop the act? Nobody is believing you anyway? Hey! Hey, Penis Parker, I’m talking to you!”

Peter just kept walking, his phone already in his hand, plugging his headphones in and putting them in his ears. “ _Good afternoon, Peter_ ,” Karen greeted him. The other day, Tony had installed her in his phone and Peter couldn’t be happier about it. He liked talking to her and as long as he used his headphones, everyone would just think he was on the phone with someone.

“Hey Karen.”

“ _How was your day at school today_?”

“Oh, y’know, the usual. Nothing special.”

“ _Peter, I happened to overhear your conversation with your classmate_.”

“You mean Ned?” It wasn’t really unusual that Karen would listen in. As long as his phone was in the room, Karen could hear everything, similar to FRIDAY at the Tower.

“ _No, not Ned. My database identified him as Eugene Thompson, but he seems to be better known as_ Flash.”

Peter could only blink. A bad feeling settled down in his stomach. “Uh … okay?”

_“His actions fit into the description of bullying.”_

“Yeah, well … he’s just messing around. He’s been doing it since like, forever, so I’m used to it.” He could only shrug. After all this time, it would be weird if Flash wouldn’t be bothering him some way or the other.

Karen hesitated. Which was weird because she never did that. _“Peter, I was programmed to help you.”_

“I know and I really appreciate it.”

_“According to my research, children who are victims of bullying should be talking to adults.”_

“Well, I’m not really a child anymore. Also, it really isn’t that big of a deal.”

_“My research also suggests to take bullying very seriously. I would recommend that you talk to your aunt or Tony Stark.”_

“What?!” Peter almost screamed, which earned him a few odd looks from other pedestrians. With burning cheeks, he kept his head down and lowered his voice. “No! I don’t need to talk to them, I can handle it! Seriously. Everything is fine.”

_“I do not think that_ everything is fine _. Alternatively, you could talk to one of your teachers.”_

“I won’t be talking to anyone about it, okay? I told you, I can handle it.”

Karen continued as if she hadn’t heard him. _“If you are too embarrassed to reach out to one of them, I could send an anonymous note.”_

“No, don’t do that. I mean it. Flash is annoying, yes, but it’s nothing serious.”

_“Are you sure?”_

“Yes, Karen, I’m totally sure. One hundred percent.”

The AI hesitated was silent and Peter felt judged. How could Tony program an AI like that? _“Very well. I trust your judgement, Peter.”_

The superhero let go a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you, Karen.”

_“But I will safe every audio file that is evidence of his bullying and if I believe that the situation gets out of hand, I will transfer these files to your aunt, Tony Stark or one of your teachers.”_

“Okay, Karen,” Peter said, not believing that she would actually do that.

(But she did.)


	8. Peter forgets Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> How about a Peter and Tony must sacrifice a special memory to survive a witch's attack? Tony remembers Peter, but for some reason Peter doesn't.

The second Tony opened his eyes, he knew something was missing. It wasn’t just the fact that he knew he had to sacrifice a special memory to break the witch’s curse which would’ve disintegrate all their organs. It took him less than a second – a heartbeat in which he saw Peter’s raw panic as his lungs stopped functioning – to decide that he wouldn’t be able to even think about out-witting the damn witch.

No, it was a feeling very familiar to forgetting a word but having it right on the tip of your tongue. Like an itch inside his brain that told him something was _wrong_ , but he just couldn’t remember. For a second, Tony tried to remember. But how do you remember something if the memory had literally been taken out of your brain? Everything seemed to be in order, nothing was out of place – and yet there was still that itchy feeling.

Talk about a day gone wrong. They’d spent their day walking around Queens, Peter had shown him all his favorite places, including his favorite rooftop and his favorite lunch at Mr. Delmar’s, and then they’d walked right into the witch. Tony didn’t know if she’d waited specifically for them or if it was a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, but it happened. The witch was gone now, leaving them alone in small alleyway.

A sound next to him broke his stupor. _Peter_. He turned around just in time to see him scrunch his face and lazily open his eyes. Before the boy could even move a single muscle, Tony was by his side. “Peter, are you alright?” Peter’s eyes darted to him, mirroring the kind of confusion Tony had just felt a minute before, but he kept silent. Somewhat concerned – Peter was _not_ one to be quiet – he reached out to touch his shoulder.

Peter flinched. He physically flinched away from his touch. He didn’t want Tony to touch him.

Something was wrong. Something was very, _very_ wrong. A cold, daunting feeling settled in his stomach that spread quickly. Tony’s brain refused to work. Because if it would, it would figure out why Peter had flinched. Why he still looked so confused. And that just couldn’t be happening.

But Peter Parker wasn’t one to be quiet.

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but who are you?”

It was a good thing Tony was kneeling, otherwise he could’ve seriously hurt himself, because his legs gave out. He briefly wondered if the curse wasn’t broken after all, because his lungs and his heart stopped working. There was a single thought on repeat in his head. _Peter forgot me. Peter forgot me. Peter forgot me._

Peter was still looking at him with this damn confused look in his eyes. “This isn’t funny,” Tony somehow choked out.

“It isn’t supposed to be,” he answered, slowly sitting up while keeping his distance from the man. His eyes were still on Tony and his whole body was on alert, as if he was ready to jump to his feet and flee at any given moment.

That hurt so damn much.

“You don’t remember me?”

“No.” Peter pulled his eyebrows together, finally looking away from Tony. The billionaire thought that the absence of his gaze would let him breath again. It did not. “I know this sounds crazy, but … wasn’t there a … well, I don’t know how to explain it, but wasn’t there a witch around here somewhere?”

“There was.”

“She made me give up a memory.” It did not escape Tony that Peter had said _me_ , not _us_. _Me_. As in singular. As in not including Tony.

“We both had to, otherwise we would’ve died a very cruel death.” Peter paled and Tony regretted his words instantly.

“O-Oh,” he said, probably in an attempt to sound brave. Tony desperately wished Peter knew he didn’t need to act tough in front of him. “Is … Could that be the reason why I don’t know who you are?”

“I think so.” _I fucking hope so._

“What did you forget?” Before Tony could even open his mouth, the boy shook his head, his cheeks bright red. “I just realized that that’s a very stupid question. Sorry. I think the magic is still messing with my head. I swear I’m usually smarter than that.”

The words _Yeah, I know_ where on the tip of his tongue, but he had a sudden idea that hit him like a truck. Magic. _Magic_.

“I can fix this,” he said more to himself than to Peter. 

“My stupidity?”

“You’re not stupid,” Tony corrected him without missing a beat, getting to his feet. His head was spinning from thinking three miles a second. “I can fix _this_ , the memory loss.”

“How? Do you know magic?” Peter’s eyes were as big as saucers as he somewhat shakenly got to his feet. 

“No, but I know someone. C’mon kid, we need to go to Greenwich Village.” Tony was already halfway to his car when he noticed that Peter wasn’t following him. “Peter, let’s go.” Peter wasn’t moving. Instead he was just frowning at him, like he was trying to solve an especially difficult equation. The need to move started to swell up in Tony’s chest because every second that the kid didn’t remember him was a bad second, but he waited. At least he tried to, which, you know, it was the thought that counted. “We should really hurry up. Get this thing sorted out before dinner to avoid the rush hour traffic.”

He still wasn’t moving. But this time, he opened his mouth. “I don’t even know your name.”

There were very few people who didn’t know who Tony Stark was. Peter was one of them now. Tony’s heart ached like it hadn’t had before.

For a second he could just stare at Peter, the boy he now saw as his own kid, the boy who made the room a little brighter the second he walked in, the boy that inspired him to be better, be better _for him_ , and Tony wasn’t able to form a single thought. Then the second passed and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could drown in his feeling the second they would fix their memories.

“You can call me Tony,” he said nonchalantly.

Peter looked suspicious. “Just Tony? Or is it, like, Mr. Tony?”

“Do _not_ call me Mr. Tony. Just Tony is fine.” The billionaire almost rolled his eyes. “Now that you know my name, can we go now?”

“Look, Tony,” he started to explain, and Tony almost got distracted by the fact that Peter had _actually_ called him Tony, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know you. And I was taught to not get into cars with strangers.”

In any other situation, Tony would’ve approved of Peter’s fear of stranger danger, but not now. “You do know me. The witch just stole your memory of me.”

“But isn’t it the same as not knowing you?”

“Then let me prove it. Your name is Peter Benjamin Parker, you’re sixteen, you go to Midtown High, you live with your aunt on the seventh floor in a crappy apartment building with next to no security at all, which, by the way, is a thing that bothers me _a lot_.” Peter blinked, obviously a bit taken back by his words. Panic was rising in Tony’s chest, so he just kept going. “Not enough? Okay. You’re Spider-Man.”

His eyes grew at an alarming rate. “W-What? How do y-you- I mean, I’m not – Who is Spider-Man? Never heard of him before.”

“You’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider on a field trip to OsCorp, and since then you swing around Queens, helping the little guy and being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You used to mix your web fluids in school inside your desk, before I gave you access to my labs. You started being Spider-Man because of your uncle, who tragically died a year ago. Your best friend is Ned Leeds who is very talented at hacking and coding. You both build Star Wars Lego sets whenever you find the time. Before the bite, you had asthma and big, nerdy glasses. Your favorite colors are red and blue. You dumpster dive and build absolutely amazing things out of these scraps. You like the sandwiches from the bodega in your neighborhood the best when it’s squished down real flat.” Tony took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows. “Should I continue? Because I can.”

Slowly, Peter shook his head. “No. But, I mean, it does sound a bit like you’re a stalker.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort. “I’m not, I promise.”

The look in his eyes changed and Tony just hoped that that was a good thing. After a few heartbeats that felt like an eternity, Peter whispered: “I never told anybody that I started because of Ben.”

Tony wanted to go over to the kid and pull him in a hug because he sounded so lost and confused, and the man just couldn’t stand it. However, he didn’t move a single muscle. He couldn’t risk scaring him away. “You told me.”

Time stood still while they just looked at each other. Then, finally, Peter nodded. “Okay.”

Tony blinked. “Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s go to Greenwich Village.”


	9. Superhero-princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> #11 “Dear Diary, …” 
> 
> #73 “I’m not wearing a dress.”

Morgan uses her Puppy Eyes, which is usually her ultimate move. “Pretty please?”

Peter can feel himself melting. But, somehow, he stays resolute. “No, Morgan.”

She starts pouting and, _oh God_ , he’s not going to make it. “With a cherry on top?” Peter is pretty sure that it’s physical impossible to be that cute. Then again, she is the child of Tony and Pepper, and therefore destined to do the impossible.

“I’m not wearing a dress,” Peters says in a tone that, hopefully, conveys finality.

_Morgan should go to Kindergarten_ , they said. _It will be fun_ , they said. And, yes, okay, a child should have friends that are around her own age and not only retired, semi-retired, or active superheroes. Besides, she loves it. On her first day, she already made five ( _five!!!_ ) new friends, which she excitingly told him about, and helped another kid reading a book about an ugly duckling. Also, they had pictures of Daddy, Uncle Steve, Uncle Thor and _Spider-Man_ to color in. Which, you know, hashtag superherogoals as far as Peter is concerned.

Everything was great until this boy Luke told her she couldn’t play with him and his friends. They were playing superhero, so, _naturally_ , Morgan wanted to join in. But Luke said she couldn’t because that day she wore her new Sleeping Beauty dress and _princesses in dresses can’t be superheroes_. When Peter had picked her up, she was absolutely heartbroken. And a heartbroken Morgan is not something Peter likes. In an effort to cheer her up, he’d told her that of course princesses can be superheroes, too, and they can also wear dresses while being a superhero. He should know, because he’s a superhero, so clearly an expert on that topic. Morgan’s smile was blinding.

Peter is, supposedly, smart. He should’ve expected the consequences. The second they reached the house – without Tony and Pepper, because there’s an important SI meeting and Peter offered to babysit his favorite five-year-old – Morgan wanted to play superhero-princess. While wearing dresses. Peter doesn’t want to wear a dress, especially because he already changed into his suit. But the little girl is headstrong. She stands in the middle of her room, still in her dress but already dressed up with a cape, a tiara and Iron Man gloves.

“But you said superhero can wear dresses,” Morgan argues.

“Well, but … you see …” His eyes dart around the room, trying to find a good explanation, “I don’t have a dress and yours don’t fit me.”

“I have one!” She turns around, sprinting to her closet and pulls something cream-colored out, before shoving it into his hands. “Mommy gave it to me because she doesn’t wear it anymore and I said it’s very pretty.”

Well damn. “I … already have a costume, see? My Spider-Man suit. And we can totally play as Spider-Man and a superhero-princess! It’ll be so much fun!”

For a second, the girl holds his gaze, still pouting. Then, she turns around again, walking over to her desk and pulls a pink scrapbook that’s covered in unicorn-stickers and glitter closer. “Dear Diary,” she says while pretending to write (she can already write, but Peter knows she’s talking way too fast to actually write anything down), “today I realized that I like Harley so much better than Peter.”

“Oh, c’mon, Morgan, don’t be like that,” Peter whines. He knows what she is doing because it’s not the first time this had happened, but it’s also a very effective technique. Harley and Peter are constantly bantering about being the favorite quasi-brother, and even though it’s all fun and games, Peter is not giving up. Neither is Harley. Morgan knows this and uses it to her advantage whenever she can.

The girl just continues. “The other day, Harley and I played monster. He even let me put paint all over his face. He said he loved it! Peter won’t even play superhero-princess with me.”

“That’s emotional blackmail. You’re blackmailing me,” he says, plopping down on her bed.

“And now he says I’m giving him black mail, but he _knows_ I’m only using unicorn paper.” That’s true. Whenever she writes anything down, she makes sure that there’s at least one unicorn and glitter on the paper.

Peter sighs. He knows he has lost. “Fine. You win. I’m wearing the dress.”

His spidey sense tingles and a second later, Morgan catapults herself onto him, squealing in delight. He can’t help but smile.

Later, when Pepper and Tony pull up in front of the house, they find the kids playing in the garden, fighting some evil force and saving the world. Morgan in her new princess dress, a cape around her neck, a tiara on her head, as well as an Iron Man mask and gloves. Peter in his multi-million-dollar high-tech suit, Pepper’s old dress, a crown sitting in his curls and a sparkling scepter in his hand. Tony laughs so hard, he can barely stand up, much less tell Peter off for using his suit for something like this. Morgan is ecstatic as Pepper shoots one picture after the other, having them do different poses, eventually having Tony – as soon as he’s not dying from laughing anymore – join them. Peter’s face is bright red and he swears himself to _never ever_ do this again.

A few days later, Peter gets a few pictures via text. Morgan still plays superhero-princess, but this time, her dad joined her. Tony Stark, _the_ Tony Stark, _Iron Man_ , stands next to his daughter, partly in his suit while also sporting a dress that’s (probably, but who really knew) from Pepper and a tiara, looking very proud and smug. There’re pictures of them doing the iconic Iron Man pose, fighting the invisible danger, drinking tea ( _“We’re still princesses, so we have to have tea breaks!”_ ) and Tony fainting dramatically. Peter chuckles and sends a quick thank you message to Pepper, before tucking his phone away, still smiling. If his hero Iron Man can play superhero-princess and dress up in a dress without feeling silly about it, Peter can, too. He can’t wait to babysit Morgan again.


	10. Fatherhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> #4 “I’m too sober for this.”
> 
> #37 “Welcome to fatherhood.”

Tony doesn’t mean to start an epic monologue about Peter, okay? Seriously. It happened by accident. He was meeting Rhodey for their more-or-less-regular catch up chat in their usual coffee place, a quiet, almost whimsical place in Brooklyn, and for the first hour, they were talking about everything and nothing at all. Then, Rhodey asked about this mysterious intern Happy was complaining about and Tony … just couldn’t stop himself.

“So, really, he’s an idiot. A smart idiot, but an idiot regardless,” he concludes his little speech in which he tried to describe Peter Parker in as few words as possible. Which is an almost impossible task.

To Tony’s surprise, Rhodey just smiles. Was he actually able to follow his rambling? “He sounds a lot like another smart idiot I know.”

Tony rolls his eyes, mostly to downplay the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. “Oh, please. I was never _that_ bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Rhodey’s grin grows and he just knows what will follow. “You were _so_ much worse.” Before Tony could actually defend himself – or try to, because, let’s be honest, he _was_ way worse than Peter – the Colonel keeps talking. “You really care for him, don’t you?”

Tony shrugs. “He grew on me. Like fungus.”

Rhodey laughs. “It’s okay, you know?” Tony just blinks, not getting what his friend was talking about. “Admitting that he’s important to you. And don’t try to deny it. You sound like a soccer mom bragging about her child.”

“Excuse you, I’m not a soccer mom. I don’t drive a van.” While Rhodey chuckles, the genius can’t stop thinking about his friend’s words and their indication. Somehow, they are making him more nervous than he likes to admit. “You think really think it’s okay?” he asks in an unusual timid voice. “To think of him as my … my kid or son or something?”

“If he feels just half of what you’re feeling, it’ll be absolutely fine,” Rhodey reassures him with a gentle smile and somewhat casually, as if his words didn’t just make Tony feel so many things he couldn’t describe.

Finally, he smirks. “Wanna meet him?” Was that even a serious question?

About half an hour later, they’re in the elevator on the way to the lab. Tony gave Peter permission to use his lab on his own today, knowing the kid wants to make another batch of his web fluid, and FRIDAY let Tony know when Peter arrived earlier in the afternoon. However, his AI hadn’t prepared him for what they are about to walk into.

“Peter will probably freak out,” Tony rambles again, because he’s strangely excited for his best friend to meet the kid he took under his wing. “I swear he still loses his mind every time he sees one of my suits, even though he’s working on them with me. Oh, and don’t even try to get him to call you Rhodey. He still calls me Mr. Stark and - … What the _hell_?”

They enter the lab which was in a total state of chaos. Work sheets are _everywhere_ , including the ceiling, sticking to it with webs. Several books – physic, math and chemistry – are scattered around the room. Five holo-screens are displaying five different design ideas, all of which are not Peter’s current projects. Three empty pizza boxes are stacked on one workbench, another one with a half-eaten pizza sitting on top. The Star Wars theme song is blasting from the speakers. Peter himself is jumping from one corner of the room to the other, hair sticking out in every direction, mumbling softly to himself and there is a hectic look in his eyes Tony knows too well from himself. DUM-E is spinning around the room, fire distinguisher in his claw, looking for something do extinguish. It makes Tony worried that there had been something on fire before already.

Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder and his laugh break his stupor. “Well,” he laughs, clearly amused, “welcome to fatherhood. This looks like a mess a toddler would make.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” Tony barks, still in shock over the state of his lab. The boy in question jumps and turns around, eyes wide, clearly not expecting them. “I thought I gave you permission to _use_ my lab, not destroy it.”

“Mr. Stark! I thought you wouldn’t be back until later,” Peter says, too shocked to move.

“And that’s supposed to make it better? What happened?”

“Okay, so, Ned and I had this crazy idea and we thought it would be, like, totally awesome to actually build it.” Frantically, Peter looks around for what is most likely the original idea of this mess. He finally finds it wedged between the second and third pizza box. Jumping over a toppled over chair, he races to his mentor, shoving the piece of paper with scrabbled sketches into his chest. “Basically, we were thinking that –“

Tony takes one look at the sketch and sighs. “I’m too sober for this.”

“Doesn’t look too bad to me,” Rhodey comments, looking over his shoulder.

Before Tony can even begin to point out why it’s a bad idea to encourage the kid to build what’s basically a miniature version of a Millennium Falcon and Death Star fusion, Peter realizes that his mentor isn’t on his own. “Oh my gosh, you’re War Machine!”

“Well, my superiors prefer Iron Patriot, but you can call me Rhodey.” Smiling, he offers his hand to the kid, who eagerly shakes it, already stammering that he’s a huge fan.

“Can we get back to the original problem, please? What happened in here? Why is DUM-E looking for some fire? And why did you need to stick your sketches to the ceiling?”

“I promise I’ll clean everything up, but I just want FRIDAY to run the final simulation first to see if I figured it out.”

“Which one is it?” Peter points to one of the holo-screens and the billionaire takes a second to study it, before he shakes his head. “It won’t work. See that part over there?” He points to the screen and Peter nods, following his gaze. “That’ll give you trouble. Will make everything collapse after a few seconds.”

The kid pulls his eyebrows together, trying to figure out a way to fix the problem and coming up empty handed. “How do I fix it, then?”

“Here, let me show you,” he says and carefully steps over the papers that are paving the floor. Peter follows him like a puppy, eagerly soaking up every word his mentor says. Rhodey just watches with a smile, deciding that fatherhood is indeed a very good look on his best friend.


	11. A cold spider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #49 “Safety first. What are you? FIVE?”
> 
> #62 “If you can’t sleep…we could have sex?”

Tony is so engrossed in his newest project that he barely notices that the door to his lab opens. When slender fingers run through his hair, he jumps a little, but his focus remains on the technology before him. Nanobots are very delicate, especially when they’re still as unstable as these ones, and Tony really doesn’t want the entire building to blow up because he slips. “Hey, Pep,” he greets her, turning his head a little to give her at least some attention. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she says and drops a kiss on his cheek. Tony can’t help but smile softly. His fiancé had spent the past five weeks traveling around the world, doing very important CEO work and crushing it. Being the good stay-at-home soon-to-be-husband he is, Tony had waited patiently, missing her terribly but being unbelievable proud whenever he heard about her totally owning a meeting. “What are you still doing up?”

“As if you’ve never caught me in lab in the middle of the night before,” he snorts and he hears her laughing softly, her hand still running through his hair. “I just had this idea and it wouldn’t leave me alone. You know how I get. I just need to get it out my system.”

“And did you get it out of your system?”

“Kinda. Mostly. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I could iron the bugs out.”

Pepper is quiet as Tony continues to work. While his hands are working on the nanobots, hers are still in his hair, scratching over his scalp, down to his neck and up again. It sends shivers down his spine and he really has to concentrate to not blow anything up. Then, after about a minute, she says: “If you can’t sleep … we could have sex?”

The nanobots are dropped (luckily without an explosion that would erase half of Manhattan) and Tony turns around so fast, Pepper barely has time to take a step back. “Yes,” he agrees with her on the spot, jumping to his feet, “great idea. Fantastic idea. So much better than mine. That’s why you’re CEO.” Pepper’s laugh gets swallowed by Tony’s kiss. Usually, they’re not that blunt when it comes to their desires and needs, preferring the usual banter-that-is-basically-just-flirting. Pepper must have really missed him. Not that he’s complaining. Quite the contrary, actually.

However, before they can even reach the elevator, they are interrupted. “ _Boss_ ,” FRIDAY chimes up, “ _Mr. Parker is calling_.”

“I’m busy,” Tony mumbles against Pepper’s lips.

“ _He says it is an emergency_.”

“The last time he said that, he and Ted said they _immediately_ needed vibranium for a school project, but in the end they just built a shelf to put their Legos on.”

“ _Mr. Parker assures you that neither Legos nor Mr. Leeds are involved this time. He requests someone to pick him up_.” _So send Happy_ , Tony wants to say before he remembers that he has the weekend off to visit his family. _“His AI informs me that the heater in his suit got damaged and does not work. Due to his inability to thermoregulate, Mr. Parker’s vitals will reach an alarming condition in approximately 25 minutes and 42 seconds. He will need approximately 54 minutes to reach his residence.”_

That gets Tony’s full attention. “What? Where the hell is he that he needs almost an hour to swing home?”

_“Mr. Parker cannot swing back. His web shooters are damaged as well.”_

Tony can’t repress a sigh, dropping his head on Pepper’s shoulder. Of course, something like this has to happen the second she gets home. But Pepper, being the absolute angel she is, just smiles and kisses his cheek. “Go. Make sure your kid doesn’t turn into a popsicle.”

Tony suddenly remembers why he loves this woman so much. “Don’t leave. I’m serious. Way too often I turn around and you’re suddenly on another business trip.” Pepper chuckles and he can’t resist but give her another quick peck. “I’ll hurry. FRIDAY, make sure she doesn’t leave again before I get back. Lock the doors, if you have to.”

_“Miss Potts has full accessibility to overwrite all my protocols.”_

“Then be a good Wing-AI and just keep her busy until I get back.” He doesn’t wait for the answer, just grabs the keys for any of his cars and a jacket, and is on his way to the garage.

FRIDAY estimated that he would need around twenty minutes to get to Peter. Tony stops the car at his location after barely sixteen minutes. Who had time for speed limits anyway? The heat is turned up to the point that the billionaire is sweating. Without wasting another second, he jumps out of the car and looks around the dark playground. He can’t see anybody. “Peter?”

“Over here.” Okay, yes, Tony jumps a little when he hears Peter’s voice that’s way closer than he had expected. He always forgets how quiet he could be. The kid is standing in the dark, hugging himself and shivering. The huge, white eyes of his mask are uncharacteristically small.

“Jesus Christ, get into the car before you freeze,” Tony orders, shrugging off his own jacket to put it around his shoulders while leading him to the passenger seat. Peter stammers a quiet _thank you Mr. Stark,_ but seems unable to move anything else but his legs. Tony pulls his mask off and wonders if his face is supposed to look so pale. Well, he better gets him somewhere warm fast. As soon he is behind the wheel again, he revs the engine and starts to drive.

“D-Don’t I have to buckle up first?” Peter asks, shivering so much his teeth are clicking against each other and there’s a light slur to his words. “Safety first a-and all that.”

Tony gives him a blank stare. “Safety first. What are you? FIVE?”

The boy ducks his head in, choosing to stare at his knees instead of his mentor. (He does buckle up with clumsy fingers.) “Why are you angry at me? You said you want me to call you when I need help and I did that. It wasn’t my fault that the suit got damaged, you can check the Baby Monitor.”

At the sound of Peter’s small voice, still accompanied by the slight shivering from the cold, all anger drains out of Tony’s body. His shoulders visibly relax and he quickly ruffles his hair as a kind-of apology. “I’m not angry at you. Worried that you caught hypothermia or some shit, yes, but not angry. And I do want you to call me if you need help, okay? It was the right move you made. It was … just bad timing, that’s all.”

“Why was bad timing?”

“Pepper just came back from her business trip and –“

Peter groans, suddenly able to fully move his body again, because he puts his face in his hands. “Mr. Stark! I don’t want to hear details.”

“Well, there _are_ no details, because guess what happened? I got a call from a half-frozen spider to pick him up.” Peter just groans some more and now that Tony knows his boy is safe and not dying in some ditch, he can joke about it. “I mean, you should be lucky you didn’t call a bit later because then – “

“Stop, please, I’m actually begging you,” Peter whines. “I promise I will never _ever_ do anything stupid again if you just stop talking.”

“We both know that’s a promise you can’t keep, so I might as well just continue.” By the time they reach the Parker’s apartment building, Peter’s blush had warmed him up quite a bit. (Tony didn’t share any details, of course, but he couldn’t resist teasing him. He _did_ interrupt them.) Tony walks him up the seven flight of stairs and right into the apartment, where an already fretting May is waiting for them. As soon as Peter hands him the suit to figure out what had happened and Tony gives both of them a brief hug, he’s on his way to his car again. After all, his fiancé is waiting for him.


	12. Blinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> #64 “Here, take my blanket.”
> 
> #72 “Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”

Peter has been hit by a blast that knocked him unconscious 3 hours and 38 minutes ago. Tony hasn’t left Peter’s side for 3 hours and 35 minutes.

The medics said he should be alright, especially with his advanced healing factor, but to be absolutely sure, Peter has to wake up. Tony’s eyes are trained on the boy, barely blinking because what if he blinks and misses something crucial? That can’t happen. So (even though FRIDAY never sleeps and will alert _literally everyone_ the second anything happens) he just keeps staring until his eyes water and the guilt inside him is eating everything away and then some. In a very uncharacteristic fashion, Tony can’t even properly drown himself in guilt, knowing that Peter got hurt because the man had allowed him to tag along on their mission. No, he’s too busy staring. Besides, he can feel guilty after the boy wakes up.

Contrary to popular believe, Tony does know what’s happening around him. He hears Steve asking him if he should take over so Tony can rest for a bit. He hears Rhodey tell him that he should take a shower and eat something. He hears Bruce reminding him that he shouldn’t forget to take his medicine, because his healing factor was completely ordinary. He hears it all – he just completely ignores it.

When Nat slips inside the room, he notices her. Which means she wants him to notice her, because c’mon, she a spy; a very good spy. Not getting in a room unnoticed should disqualify any spy. However, she stays quiet, barely making any sound at all. Tony almost forgets she’s there, but then something soft weighs his shoulders down. “Here, take my blanket,” she whispers.

“Why?” he whispers back. Tony doesn’t know why they whisper, after all they want Peter to wake up, but it feels appropriate.

She shrugs and takes a seat next to him, eyes trained on the boy in the bed. “I don’t know. They always give blankets to people in shock in TV shows.”

“I’m not in shock.”

“Right. That’s why you’re all mama-bear right now.”

“Well, one might argue I’m always all mama-bear when a certain teenage spider is involved.”

Natasha chuckles softly, but doesn’t comment on it. They just sit there in silence, staring with unblinking eyes at Peter who is completely oblivious to their panic. Kids these days. No regards for the near heart-attacks they are causing.

“Why are you here?” Tony asks after a while. She hasn’t left yet. Hasn’t told him to take a break or to eat something or to do anything else but watch his boy.

“I figured two pairs of eyes see more than one,” she answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Do you see something?”

“Not yet, but I’m stealthy. Comes with the territory.”

Tony wants to keep the banter going, wants to do something familiar, wants to fall back into his coping mechanism and laugh about everything – but, somehow, he can’t. His chest keeps getting tighter and the weight of the blanket makes him feel strangely vulnerable. “Can you do the thing you always do?” he blurs out before he can think twice about it.

Nat raises an eyebrow, turning her head a little to look at him. “What thing?”

“The one where you smile and tell me everything will be okay and, somehow, everything does turn out okay.” He doesn’t dare to move his gaze, even though he can feel her staring holes in his head. His chest is so tight, he can barely breath or get any words out. “Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”

For a second, nothing happens and Tony thinks he overstepped some boundary. Then, a little hesitant, she reaches out and squeezes his hand. Finally, for the first time in 3 hours and 43 minutes, Tony takes his eyes off of Peter and looks at her. A small smile tugs at her lips, the one he knows all too well. “Everything will be okay.”

Tony believes her. And, yes, he knows she only said it because he asked her to, but it doesn’t matter. Because whenever she gives him that smile and says those words, everything will be okay. It’s like a law of nature. His gaze travels back to Peter and he refuses to blink again. Nat stays by his side, not saying a word, just staring and not blinking.

After 4 hours and 21 minutes, Peter grimaces and lazily opens his eyes, taking in his surroundings before they land on the people sitting by his bed side. “M’st’r S’rk?” Tony blinks.


	13. Peter's first gala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> #1 “Go with me?” “As long as you hold my hand.”
> 
> #2 “Have you always been this beautiful?”

Tony knocks against the door twice, before opening it and strutting inside. A big smile spreads across his face. “Oh, look at you, so handsome! You clean up nicely.”

“Very funny, Mr. Stark,” Peter comments with a roll of his eyes, still fixing the bowtie of his suit. They’re about to visit a gala, Peter’s first one and the boy is a wreck. It’s not exactly helping that he has to hold a speech about the web fluid he designed for medical purposes, too. After confessing that Peter used his webs a few times to stitch up some of his wounds and a stern talk from Tony, they started to toy around with the idea that one could use the webs for something else than just swinging from building to building. A few months and a patent later, there were articles about Peter and his webs in every scientific magazine that really counts. That was quite a feat for a seventeen-year-old and Tony couldn’t be prouder, dropping the fact that it was his intern who did that in almost every conversation he had. Seriously. He talked the ears off of a grumpy cab-driver. And the cashier of the Seven-Eleven at two thirty in the morning. And a way too energetic barista.

Peter was equally excited and mortified of doing this, so they’re all really supportive. Tony, Rhodey and Happy helped him getting his first suit, Tony took him to his stylist earlier this afternoon, May showered him with even more of her supportive affection, and Pepper helped him with his speech. Honestly, you can’t have a better team to prep you for an event like this.

Still, the boy is overthinking and panicking (seriously, he’s literally a superhero and he’s afraid of a little speech?), just like always, so Tony tries his best to distract him from all the stress. “No, I’m serious. Have you always been this beautiful?” He steps next to him, shooing Peter’s hands away, so he can fix the crooked bowtie. Their suits aren’t identical, but they match good enough to see it’s on purpose. Peter’s hair is gelled back, completely disregarding Tony’s protests that he shouldn’t hide his curls, and it’s the first time the boy wears a tailored, custom-made suit. He does look handsome, as well as very mature and elegant. He’ll fit into the crowd just fine.

“I’m not beautiful,” Peter says with a blush that turns his face into a tomato.

“Well, I beg to differ. Pretty sure I’ll spend the entire night rescuing you from bored, divorced cougars with too much money.” He pauses, mockingly thinking about it. “On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“ _They_ don’t know that.”

“Pretty sure they’ll mention it when they’ll introduce me for my speech. ‘Cause, y’know, the articles only mentioned it about a _gazillion_ times that I’m still in High School.” As if this is an absolute disaster, Peter plumps back onto his bed, arms over his face and mumbles: “Is it too late to take you up on that offer to fly to the Bahamas?”

“We can do that after your speech”, Tony laughs, sitting next to him. Peter just groans, but doesn’t move. Playfully, the billionaire nudges him in the rips. “C’mon, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Too late he realizes that that’s the wrong question. “Everything! I can trip or stutter or forget how to speak English or say something stupid or forget my flash cards or maybe it’s just a massive joke or everyone will just laugh at me–“

“As much as I like for you to go on, I’m stopping you right here.” To his surprise, Peter really does stop. Tony is still a bit baffled whenever the boy actually listens to him. In his opinion, that doesn’t happen often enough. “It’s not a joke. If it were, it would be a very expensive one and I don’t know anybody besides me who has enough money to spend to much on a silly joke for a High Schooler. You won’t forget how to speak English. Even if you do forget your flash cards, which I doubt,” Tony quickly pats Peter’s jacket where he knows the little stack of cards is hidden, “there are teleprompters for you to read from. And as long as you don’t make any corny science puns, you won’t say anything stupid. Nobody will laugh, okay? They will all cheer for you. Pepper, May, Rhodey, Happy, Ned, MJ, and I will be the loudest ones. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

Hesitantly, Peter peeks out from under his arms, and Tony gives him his best reassuring smile he has. Because he knows Peter will smash this. Even though he doesn’t see it, he has this charm around him that makes it absolutely impossible to not find him endearing. “What if I still screw up?”

“If you do, I’ll do something stupid to distract everyone.” This time, Peter can’t help but laugh and his laugh is as infectious as always. “I’m pretty good at doing stupid things in public, just ask Pepper. Who will think about the boy that stuttered his way through a speech, when you can talk about the one and only Tony Stark running around stark naked? Just think about all the pun opportunities for the papers. They can’t resist a catchy caption like that.”

Peter groans, burying his face in his hands, but it also sounds a bit like a laugh. “Mr. Stark! Don’t say stuff like that! I’m not getting the imagines out of my head!”

“Good! Let it be a reminder of what’ll happen if you screw up.” With his usual flourish, Tony stand ups, straightens his jacket, and grabs Peter’s hand. “Now, let’s go. Everyone is waiting.” He pulls a little bit at his hand, trying to coax the teenager into moving. “Go with me?”

“As long as you hold my hand,” Peter sighs and finally stands up. “I mean, literally. You have like, an iron grip or something.”

“Well, I’m _Iron Man_ , of course I have to have an _iron grip_.” Peter laughs, and Tony thinks it’s worth to make a bad pun from time to time, as long as it takes Peter’s mind away from his troubles. He gives Peter’s hand another tuck, before putting his arm around his shoulders, pressing him into his side and walking to the door. “Besides, I have to hold on tight to my little spider. You wouldn’t believe how slippery spiders can get.”


	14. OsCorp's fries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #2 “Quit touching me, your feet are cold!”
> 
> #16 “YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

Something touches Tony’s calf and he yelps, almost jumping up from the couch. “Quit touching me, your feet are cold!”

“But you’re so warm,” Peter whines, his words a bit slurred, stretching the _so_ ridiculously long.

“And you’re cold. I’m already sick, I don’t need to get sicker,” Tony says, crawling a bit to the side and pulling his blanket tighter around him.

“I’m sick, too.”

“No, you can’t even get sick. You’re just drugged up.”

The truth is that Tony and Peter probably shouldn’t be left unsupervised right now. Peter had a really rough patrol, stab wounds, broken bones and everything. He’s healing and out of danger, but he took so many of his special pain killers that he’s in a delirious and kind of crazy state. Tony himself has a mean cold, even though he pretends that it’s not that bad. But he feels sluggish, can’t figure out the simplest equations, his joints hurt more than usual, and he has no desire to spend any time in his lab, which is always a dead give-away that he isn’t feeling well. Now they’re pretending to take care of each other, sprawled out on the large designer couch (which is also a pull-out, who knew fancy designers make something like this?), wrapped into too many blankets, and watching one movie after the other. Tony can’t even say what they’re watching, he’s too out of it. Only Peter’s cold feet bring him back into the land of the living from time to time.

“You’re mean,” Peter sniffs, which is clearly a manipulative move, because he doesn’t even have the sniffles.

“’Cause you’re being a brat. _You_ should be nicer to _me_. I’m the one who’s sick.”

“But you’re the adult.”

“Not when I’m sick.” Peter pouts and if Tony wouldn’t feel like shit, he might have laughed. But there’s a reason he is currently swallowed by a mountain of blankets, and Peter’s feet are cold. He can deal with a sulky teenager when he’s well enough again.

“You’re not my favorite billionaire anymore,” Peter says and it sounds like a version of _you didn’t invite me to your birthday, so I’m not going to invite you to my birthday_.

Tony scoffs. “Wow, I’m hurt. How will I ever recover from this?”

“I mean it. I like Mr. Osborn better now.”

“Really? Of all the billionaires out there, you pick him?” Peter nods. “Why?” Somehow, this irks Tony. He can’t even say why. Maybe it’s just his sick brain that tells him it’s important. Peter looks at him with wide, bambi-like eyes. “C’mon, be honest. Why is Osborn better than me? ‘Cause he’s not telling you to keep your cold feet to yourself?”

For a second, it doesn’t look like Peter is going to answer, maybe trying to figure out if he actually gets into trouble for saying what’s running through his head. Then, he looks back to the big TV screen and shrugs. “Their fries are better than yours.”

“What?”

“The fries in the cafeteria at OsCorp are better than the ones at SI.”

Tony just can’t help himself. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he grabs the nearest pillow and throws it at Peter. “Traitor!” Peter looks baffled, but he doesn’t give him any time to figure out what’s going on. Quickly, he grabs another pillow and presses it against the boy’s face.

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST, STOP HITTING ME!” Peter screams, ripping the pillow out of his hands and throwing it back at Tony. The joke’s on him, because Tony just throws it back.

“Well, if their fries are _so good_ , maybe you should intern for him!”

“It’s literally just fries! And you’re the one who wanted to know!”

“You’re supposed to lie!”

“Again, you told me to be honest!” At this point, they’re having a very sorry excuse for a pillow fight, half-heartedly throwing them at each other, but moving as little as possible at the same time.

This is the scene Pepper walks in to. For a moment, she just stops and stares, trying to figure out if this is real or not. Finally, when a very expansive designer lamp crashes to the floor, she has enough. “Hey! What’s going on?”

Both geniuses jump a little into the air, turning their heads around to get a look at the intruder. “I’m disowning Peter!” Tony yells at the same time Peter says: “Mr. Stark is being mean to me!”

“And the reason the lamp has to suffer, is …?” she says, walking in front of the couch and crossing her arms over her chest.

Tony knows that look. He’s seen it quite often now. Luckily, he knows exactly what to do, and gives her his most charming smile. “You look beautiful, Pepper.”

Pepper is not impressed. “Don’t change the subject.” Okay, maybe he doesn’t know what to do. “Is anyone going to tell me the reason for your fight now?”

“Peter likes Osborn better than me.”

“I said I prefer the _fries_ , not him,” Peter clarifies and rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m sorry, have you met me?”

“Miss Potts, he was mean to me and called me a brat,” he tattles in a pretty whining voice. Tony mumbles _snitch_ under his breath.

“If I remember correctly, I told you both to go to sleep and get better, not fight with each other.” She gives both of them a chastising glare. “Or do I have to get Happy to drive Peter home?”

“No, we’ll be good,” Tony says at once, while Peter just shakes his head vigorously. Even though they were fighting a minute ago, they both want the others company, especially because they aren’t feeling well.

“That’s what I thought. Now, both of you get one pillow, and you will _rest your head on it_ , not throw it around.” To make sure they can’t start another fight, Pepper takes all the extra pillows and chucks them out of their reach. “I’ll see if I can make something to eat. You should both try to sleep. And I don’t want to hear another word about fries or being mean, alright?” They both mumble affirmation and close their eyes, not wanting to anger the CEO further.

A week later, the cooks in the cafeteria of the SI tower get new, very specific instructions concerning the fries. It’s a new brand, there are very detailed instructions how to prepare them, including temperature and time and how much of a special blend of spices to use. They think it’s a joke, especially after they find out that the order came from no one else but Tony Stark, and, apparently, there were quite a few trials and errors to come to this conclusion. However, they do notice that their boss and a certain intern are eating down in the cafeteria more often now, always sharing a plate of fries.


	15. Pepperony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #7 “Please just kiss me already.”
> 
> #13 “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Tony looks up, slowly turning his head to the strawberry blonde woman sitting a few feet next to him. They’re in his workshop, him working on one of his suits, while Pepper goes over this week’s agenda, reminding him of all the events and meetings he has to attend. It’s something they regularly do, making the best of their limited time by multi-tasking (obviously it has been Pepper’s idea), but something is different today. For one, Pepper is actually sitting down, not pacing around the room like she normally does. She’s also taking more time to go through everything, her voice light and a little playful, dropping a few comments which all make him chuckle and that are definitely not work-related.

Pepper notices his stare and looks up, fluttering eyelashes and a smirk and everything. Her skirt rides up on her thigh a bit too high for a professional setting, which is odd. Her wardrobe is always on point and appropriated, and going through their agenda is considered _professional time_. Tony’s focus fully shifts from the technology to the woman besides him. “Is something wrong?”, she asks after a moment, sounding a bit husky.

Something is going on. Tony squints his eyes, trying to concentrate enough to figure this out, but Pepper’s doing an excellent job at distracting him. Finally, he opens his mouth. “Are you flirting with me?”

“You finally noticed?” Pepper laughs and looks very pleased with herself.

Tony doesn’t know how to answer. Usually, he’s the one who does all the flirting, sometimes subtle, more often than not not subtle at all, and she always rolls her eyes and pretends to be annoyed, even though he never fails to make her smile. He always thought that her chastising him was her way of flirting. Not that she even has to flirt with him. Pepper just being herself has him wrapped around her little finger.

But, apparently, he has been wrong. Turning his chair around to fully face his fiancée, he smirks. “Well, well, Miss Potts. What an unusual behavior from you. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

Pepper shrugs, pretending to not enjoy this, but there’s a spark in her eyes Tony knows well enough. “I mean, when your fiancé spends more time with robots than you, it’s about time to bring out the big guns, isn’t it?”

Even though her tone is playful, Tony does feel bad about it. “I don’t spend more time with my robots than with you.”

“Should we ask FRIDAY about it? FRIDAY, please compare the times Tony spent in here working and the times we spent together from last week.”

_“In the past seven days, Boss spent –“_

“Alright, alright, I get your point. No need to rub it in my face.” Pepper’s smirk is very smug and Tony can’t wait to marry this woman. In one move, he’s out of the chair and standing in front of her, pulling her to her feet. “How about we just play hooky today and spend some time together?”

She raises a perfect eyebrow, trying to look stern. However, for the first time since the beginning of time, she seems to fail. The smirk is still on her face, even though she tries her best to hide it. “You’re the head or the R&D department, and I’m the CEO of _your_ company.”

“Perfect, so no one can tattle on us.”

“And who’s going to run the company for today?”

“We’ve got smart employees, they will survive a day without us looking over their shoulders.”

“You mean without _me_ looking over their shoulders, because you’re always hiding in here.”

“Same difference.” Pepper chuckles. A sound that never fails to make Tony smile and all mushy inside – not that he is admitting that to anyone. He puts his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. “C’mon, when was the last time you had a day off? In fact, why don’t we ask FRIDAY how much time you spent in your office last week compared to how much time we spent together?”

“Touché,” she smiles, and Tony can hardly believe it, but is he winning an argument right now? Against Pepper? Without ignoring everything she says and acting like a child? Is he dreaming right now? If he is, he doesn’t want to wake up.

He starts peppering her face with soft kisses, knowing that his beard tickles her, and loving her soft chuckles. “Just one day. We can drive out of the city or get disguises and do all the cheesy touristy stuff. And who knows, maybe we finally find a venue for the wedding.”

“Fine, alright,” she sighs.

A big grin spreads across his face, and he just can’t help himself. “What? Did you just agree to play hooky with me? Did the Pepper Potts really –“

“Please just kiss me already. Before I change my mind.” Well, Tony can’t ignore an order from his boss, can he?


	16. Teenager problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> #2 “Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” 
> 
> #5 “OH you’re jealous!”

**Forehead of Security** : _kid’s in a bad mood_

That’s all the warning Tony gets before a moody teenager barges into his lab, throwing his backpack to the side, and throwing himself on a chair, almost crashing into the workbench while doing so. It doesn’t get better. He just sits there, sulking, a figurative dark cloud looming over his head.

“Okay, I bite,” Tony says, wheeling his chair next to the kid, “what’s the reason for this?”

“Nothing,” Peter lies and he’s not even trying to be convincing. Instead, he scribbles angrily on a notepad.

“Right. I actually want to work with you today, so can we please skip over the part where you pretend you can lie to me, and just go straight to you telling me what’s going on? It’ll save us both so much time.” For a moment, Peter seems to consider the offer before giving in. Tony is a bit surprised, but doesn’t show it. Whatever is bothering him must be worse than he thought.

“Just … school stuff. It doesn’t really matter.”

“It sure does if it makes you look like this.” Peter just grimaces and doesn’t answer him. “C’mon, what’s going on? Did that Flash kid bother you?”

“No, he wasn’t even in school today.”

“Then what is it?”

The boy glances at him and Tony raises an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued right now. There aren’t a lot of things that make Peter act like a normal teenager, all moody and sulky. “I have to do this school project.”

This is like pulling teeth. “And you don’t want to do it?”

“No, it’s interesting enough. But the teacher assigned the partners.”

“I guess you’re not working with Fred.”

“No, I’m not working with _Ned_. I work with Brad.”

Well, that’s a new name. “Who’s Brad?”

“Just… someone stupid.”

“So you’re pissed because you think you have to do all the work and he gets the credit?”

“No, not stupid like that. He actually had a few pretty good ideas.” Peter looks back to his notepad that’s already half covered in ink. “He’s just … stupid, y’know?”

Tony is getting nowhere with his interrogation. “No, actually, I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” He really can’t tell what’s going on. Peter never behaves like this. Someone can stab him and the boy would still defend them.

Peter takes a deep breath and then, suddenly, everything bursts out of him. “Brad is this really popular and good-looking guy, and he plays basketball, and actually gets good grades, and all the girls swoon over his hair, and he’s so funny and nice and charming and just … stupid.”

Tony needs a second to process what he just heard before he has his epiphany. “OH, you’re jealous!”

“What?” Peter shrieks, jumping in his chair and whirling around to face him. “No, I’m not!”

“Kid, did you listen to yourself? Of course, you are. Which makes me wonder what this Brad did to make you so upset.” He takes another look at Peter, who averted his eyes again. It can’t be the usual bullying, because the boy always ignores it. But if he’s already acting like a normal teenager, maybe it’s just normal teenager stuff. Well, it’s worth a shot. “Did he ask MJ out on a date?”

This time, Peter actually jumps out of his chair, almost sticking (in his case literally) to the ceiling, his face dark red. “W-W-W-Why would – I mean, what do- … Why-Why would I care if Brad asks MJ out?”

“Geez, no clue,” Tony deadpans, absolutely not believing a word he’s stuttering. “On a totally unrelated note: Is there a reason you’re blushing like that? Because one could think that you actually do care.”

For a second, it looks like Peter wants to protest, but Tony just shakes his head. Defeated, his shoulders slump down. “He hasn’t asked her out _yet_ ,” he mumbles, not looking into Tony’s eyes, “but I overheard that he wants to.”

“Which makes him stupid,” Tony concludes. Peter shrugs, picking up the pen again and continues to scribble on the notepad. “Do you think MJ will say yes?” Another shrug and more intense scribbling. Tony sighs and rubs his forehead. When he recruited a kid with superpowers, he never imagined that he would also have to deal with typical dating troubles of said kid. And the really weird part? He isn’t even bothered. “So, what’s the plan here? You wanna continue sulking and just hope that this Brad never gets around to ask her out?”

Peter gives him an unimpressed side-glance. “You make it sound like I have another choice.”


	17. Is that blood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #8 “Is that blood?” “…..No?”
> 
> #15 “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”

Something is wrong with Peter. Tony knows it. May knows it. Ned, Happy, Pepper, and Rhodey (probably even MJ) know it. Not because Peter is talking about, of course not, but because everyone can see how stressed he is. However, in true Peter Parker-fashion, the boy just smiles and says everything is fine. At this point, they’re all planning an intervention, seriously worried about him.

It’s Tuesday night, well, technically Wednesday morning, when FRIDAY alerts Tony that a certain window for a certain spider to crawl into has been opened. Quickly, he checks his phone for any messages, but there are none. There’s a crash from the end of the hallway.

“FRIDAY?” Tony asks, already sitting up in bed (yes, he was actually sleeping, Pepper should be proud) and getting into his slippers.

“ _Mr. Parker is in his bathroom._ ” She pauses. “ _I do believe he is in need of assistance._ ”

While he’s hurrying down the hall to Peter’s room, he quickly checks in with Karen. He didn’t get any alerts from her, which is odd. If something happened – and based on FRIDAY’s words, something did happen – she would’ve told him. It’s the Tattletale Protocol.

The lights in Peter’s room are off, as well as the ones in his bathroom, but Tony can hear him. He’s whimpering and hissing, maybe even crying. Tony’s worry intensifies. He doesn’t even need to flip the light switch on, FRIDAY turns on the light by herself, keeping the setting low. Peter, the boy who can sense almost everything, jumps a bit and turns around, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He is in his suit, his mask is off, and he’s going through the cabinet over the sink. There’s a dark spot on his suit that seems to be growing. Tears are rolling down his face. Tony still didn’t get any notifications from the spider-suit about its whereabouts or condition.

For a second, they just look at each other and the billionaire needs a second to prioritize his questions. The growing, dark spot wins. “Is that blood?”

“…..No?” Another hiss and then in a voice that’s about an octave too high: “Okay, yes, it is.”

In a blink of an eye, Tony is at his side, steadying his shoulders and gently lowering him to the toilet seat. “Knife or gun?” he asks and hates that this is a routine question.

“Knife,” Peter answers as Tony presses the spider symbol on his chest, pushing the fabric out of the way as soon as he can. “Th-There was a robbery and –“

“Explanations can wait until after we fixed you, okay? FRIDAY, give me a quick scan. Does he need stitches?” He rummages through the cabin, finding the bottle Peter was looking for earlier.

“ _The wound does not appear to be life-threatening and is already healing. Stitches should not be necessary_.” Tony just nods and hands the boy a few pain killers before getting disinfectant and bandages. Peter is silent, disregarding the soft whimper when Tony cleans the wound, and avoids eye contact. The entire procedure doesn’t take longer than two minutes, but it feels like an eternity.

Afterwards, the boy changes into clean clothes, standing somewhat lost in the middle of his room, while Tony takes a quick look the suit. “Thank you, Mr. Stark” Peter says, looking everywhere but at him. “I’ll fix the suit and clean the bathroom, I promise, I just need –“

“Don’t sweat it. It can wait. Why don’t you take a seat?” He nods towards the untouched bed.

Peter ignores him. “I should get back, if May wakes up and –“

“And finds out that you were out as Spider-Man after your curfew and not only got injured but also hacked into the suit again to turn off all the notifications, she’ll be pissed? Kiddo, she’s not the only one.” He ducks his head, looking properly ashamed, but Tony feels far from satisfied. He’s way too worried. “Talk to me, Pete. What’s going on?”

He shrugs, but sits down on the bed. Maybe out of exhaustion, maybe because he knows he can’t escape this conversation. Tony sits beside him and waits, hoping the boy will start talking. He doesn’t. Okay, then Tony has to be the adult. “You know the notifications are there for your own safety, right? So someone can come and help you if you need it.”

“I know,” he admits in a very small voice, wringing his hands nervously.

“Then why did you turn them off? I know Ned didn’t do it.” Another shrug from him. His shoulders start to shake. A minute spend in tense silent passes. “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know?”

A shaky nod and then the dam bursts. It starts with a choppy sob and before Tony knows it, he’s holding a crying teenager to his chest, running a soothing hand through his curls, doing his best to comfort him. Peter’s entire body shakes and his grip on him is a little bit too tight, but Tony would rather die than tell him to let go. “I- … I just need to do more. To help more.”

“Why do you think that?”

“There was this girl, a few weeks back. She ran into the traffic and there was this truck and –“ A violent sob shakes him and Tony can do nothing but hold him tighter. “I-I couldn’t get to her in time.” The billionaire vaguely remembers it, it has been in the newspaper. A seven-year-old hit by a truck, dead before the paramedics arrived at the scene. Spider-Man wasn’t mentioned, but thinking about it now, it was around the time Peter started to act strange.

For a few minutes, Peter just cries and Tony rubs his back. What do you say to a young superhero in a situation like this? You can’t save everyone? It’s not your fault? Tony knows from experience that, even though it’s the truth, it doesn’t help, not when it’s still so raw and hurting so much. Should he lecture him for breaking his curfew to do more superheroing? It doesn’t seem right, not with all the emotions that are tied to his misbehavior.

“I know it sucks,” he finally says, when Peter has somewhat calmed down. “It will always suck when you can’t safe someone.”

“But if-if I do more patrolling and –“

“It won’t bring her back.” He whimpers again and Tony pulls him closer. “And you need to stay safe, too. We both know that you probably could’ve dodge that knife if you’ve been on the top of your game. If you don’t think your own health is as important as patrolling – and trust me, it’s actually more important – think about it this way: if you’re not in perfect condition while you’re out as Spider-Man, you might make some mistake. And then somebody else can get hurt.”

Those aren’t nice words, Tony is very aware of it, but they are true. If Peter doesn’t get enough rest, he’ll eventually make mistakes that might not only hurt him, but also the people he’s trying to protect. Tony knows the guilty feeling – that you’re being egoistic because you take some time for yourself. But even machines need to recharge and maintenance. It’s easier on one’s conscience if you think you’re doing it for someone else.

“I’m sorry,” Peter eventually says. He tries to sit up, but Tony doesn’t let him. He woke up to find his kid with a stab wound, he’s allowed to hold him for a bit longer, okay? “It’s just –“ He doesn’t finish the sentence, however, Tony knows what he’s trying to say.

And he tells him what he wishes someone would’ve told him when he first started flying around as Iron Man. “You’re not alone in this. You’ve got people around you who care and support you, in the good and especially in the bad times. It’s not a weakness to ask for help or to admit that it’s getting too much. You’re sixteen, Peter, nobody expects you to shoulder all this responsibility alone. You’re allowed to be selfish.” Tony sighs and ruffles his hair. “Your heart is just too big to actually allow it.”

That gets a chuckle out of Peter and some of the tension in the room finally disappears. “Some people would argue that it’s a good quality.”

“Well, those people obviously haven’t met you and don’t know what they’re talking about.” Tony lets go of the boy to take a good look at him. He still looks awful, puffy red eyes, pale cheeks and so, so tired. But the corners of his mouth are tucked upwards. Baby steps. “Stay the night. I’ll deal with Aunt May and I’ll fix the suit.”

“But I –“

“No,” he says firmly, standing up to half-drag Peter in the bed. “The only thing you should worry about, is getting enough sleep. Everything else can wait until later, you hear me?” Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the side effects from the pain killers, but Peter gives surprisingly easily, nodding with already closed eyes.

“Thanks,” he mumbles again.

“You’re welcome. Now, sleep tight and don’t let any radioactive bedbugs bite.”


	18. Buzzfeed Unsolved: Spider-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> for a prompt if you're taking some, buzzfeed unsolved - spiderman and or peter quill edition
> 
> and
> 
> The buzzfeed unsolved fic was sooooo good!! Could you do a part 2 maybe? This is the good shit I need in my life. 💛

Peter is working with Tony in his lab, elbow deep in the engine of one of his vintage cars, when his phone rings. At the loud, obnoxious yodeling sound, Tony raises an eyebrow. “Really? _That’s_ your ringtone?”

“It’s Ned,” Peter explains, having a customized ringtone for his most important contacts. “I’ll just-“ He looks at his arm, stuck in the engine, and he knows he can’t get his arm out fast without damaging the machine.

Tony knows it, too. He sighs and says: “FRIDAY, synch up his phone, answer the call, and put it on speaker. Just anything to stop this dreadful sound.”

“ _Of course, boss_.”

“It’s not _that_ bad, Mr. Stark, it’s-“

“OH MY GOD, PETER!” Ned’s voice booms through the workshop, causing both geniuses to jump a little. “YOU’RE FAMOUS!”

“What?” Peter asks, finally getting his arm out of the engine. “What do you mean?”

“Buzzfeed Unsolved just released an episode about Spider-Man!”

“WHAT?!” It’s a good thing Peter’s arm is already out of the engine, because in his excitement, he would’ve thrown the thing across the room and probably out of the window. “FOR REAL?!”

“Yes! Dude, I can’t believe it! It’s almost 27 minutes long, and the thumbnail looks amazing, they took a picture of you mid-swing and put some spooky-green filter on it, and I can’t wait to watch it and –“

“Wait, you haven’t watched it yet?”

“No, I thought we could watch it together right now?”

“Yes! That’s awesome!” Then, Peter remembers that he isn’t alone. Tentatively, he turns around and looks at his mentor, who watches the spectacle in front of him with a confused gaze. “I, uh, can I come around your place later tonight? I’m at the Tower right now.”

Ned is silent for a second before he whispers: “Is Mr. Stark there?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Yes, Ted, I’m here, it’s my building. And I heard everything. What’s this Buzzfeed Unsolved?”

“It’s a show on YouTube,” Peter answers, because Ned already started muttering about _oh my God Iron Man heard me rambling_. “They talk about strange occurrences, try to prove that ghosts are real and discuss theories about unsolved crimes, like the death of van Goth, Peter Quill’s disappearance, the Black Dahlia, the Zodiac Killer, stuff like that.”

“Well, that’s sounds like a happy, bright show kids should watch.” Peter can only roll his eyes at the sarcasm, but Tony ignores it for now. “And now they made an episode about you.”

“It’s called _The Mysterious Identity Of Spider-Man_ ,” Ned throws in. “And everyone on Twitter is already talking about it.”

“So, what are we waiting for?” Tony asks, getting up from his stool next to the engine. “Let’s watch it. Ed, I’m sending Happy to pick you up. Tell him to stop on the way and get some snacks, okay?”

“Wait, what are you doing?” Peter just asks. Ned has already hung up, too excited about the entire prospect.

Tony shrugs. “We’re watching that episode. Oh, don’t play dumb, I know you’re dying to watch it, and you won’t even listen to anything I’m trying to teach you, so we might as well watch some videos.”

An hour later, Tony, Peter, and Ned sit on the big couch in the living room area, a mountain of snacks of all sorts in front of them. FRIDAY already put up the video on the TV screen, and the teenagers are practically vibrating with excitement. “The _entire world_ will know about Spider-Man now,” Ned whispers solemnly as he sneaks a sour gummy worm from Peter.

“Okay, let’s not exaggerate, okay?” Tony says, and Peter could basically hear him worrying. Because if the entire world knows about Spider-Man, that only means more trouble for Peter Parker. “FRIDAY, start the video.”

The intro starts – a spooky, dark skyline, covered in mist, and a dark red figure flying over the screen. “Y’know, if Spider-Man would have his own social media, we could totally post about watching the episode.”

“Dude, yes! And then -“

“Okay, that’s it, give me your phones, before you can post anything,” Tony intervenes, his hand already stretched out to collect the devices. A bit grumpy, the teenagers hand over their phones.

“ _On this episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved, we’re discussing the unknown identity of a vigilante known as Spider-Man_.” Two guys sitting in a messy office appear on the screen. “ _Shane, you have heard of Spider-Man before, right_?”

“ _Yeah, through some friends from New York, but he kinda got famous after Iron Man made him a suit.”_

“ _That’s right, though according to my research, Iron Man had nothing to do with the origin of this superhero_.” The screen cuts to black and a white timeline is drawn on it. “ _In January of 2016, the citizens of Queens in New York City reported the first sightings of someone in a red and blue outfit who started to fight smaller crimes, like catching bike thieves or pickpockets. Only several weeks later, as a video of this vigilante catching a car with his bare hands to stop it from slamming into a bus gets uploaded, people realized that it isn’t a normal vigilante_. _The people from Queens and YouTube dubbed him_ Spider-Man _, due to his spider logo and the iconic webs. No one knows where he comes from or what his story is, but he’d gained fast popularity by looking out for Queens.”_

Suddenly, the hosts are in Queens, walking through very familiar looking streets. This is reason enough for the two boys to freak out, which only intensified when Spider-Man himself suddenly swings across the screen, most likely chasing a stolen car by the look of it. “ _Holy shit, did you see that? Did you get that on camera?”_

_“Wow, he’s fast!”_

“I can’t believe that you swung by Ryan and Shane and didn’t see them!”

“I know, I would’ve asked for a picture!” Tony scoffs next to them, but seems intrigued enough to keep watching the video.

The timeline is back again. _“On June 24th 2016, Spider-Man took part in what is known as the Civil War, the Avenger’s fight about the Sokovia Accords. He was fighting alongside Avengers like Iron Man, Iron Patriot, the Black Widow, Vision, and an unknown, possible superhero in a black, cat-like costume.”_ Besides him, Peter can feel Tony tense up. The topic is still a very touchy one for him _. “It is worth noting that Spider-Man showed up in a new suit, a much more professional one, and it was assumed and later confirmed, that Tony Stark made that suit for him. After the fight in Germany, Spider-Man continued to fight crime in Queens, and while Iron Man did occasionally pair up with him, he is not an official part of the Avengers and did not sign the Accords.”_

The screen cuts to black again, but this time, the well-known yellow and blue dialogue appears.

_“right of the bat, I have so many questions about it.”_

_“(wheezes) of course you do.”_

_“I mean- I mean he, uhm… fought for the accords, right? and then he ju- he just didn’t sign them? like, is he having a personal agenda against Captain America and was like I’ll just play along and punch good ol’ Cap in the face?”_

_“(laughs) can you imagine, though? everyone is fighting about politics and he’s just causing havoc?”_

“To be fair, that does sound like you,” Tony comments with a smirk, who has started to snack on some blueberries. Peter only scoffs, but doesn’t get a chance to comment.

_“no, I, uh, actually think he didn’t sign them because he’s not an official part of the avengers team. but my personal opinion is that-that Tony Stark told him not to.”_

_“but, like, why would he? he’s like the figurehead for the accords.”_

_“yeah-yeah, but he’s also very protective of Spider-Man.”_ Tony makes a point to not look anywhere near Peter, and Peter tries to ignore the heat gathering in his cheeks. _“just look at his suit, it’s clearly stark tech and a complete upgrade from his former one.”_

_“(scoffs) yeah, I mean, who thought it was a good idea to fight crime in that?”_

_“I know, right? and Iron Man has been seen aiding Spider-Man with quite a few things. we actually asked Stark Industries if anyone would talk with us about it, but they didn’t reply.”_

“What?!” both Ned and Peter yelp, looking at Tony. “Why didn’t you answer?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, sorry, next time someone tries to expose your identity, I’ll make sure to pencil them in to have a little chat with them.”

_“But now, let’s dive into some theories. Shane, you will like the first one.”_

_“Oh, yeah? You think so?”_

_“Yeah. The first theory is that Spider-Man is actually … an alien.”_

All three of them laugh along side the hosts of the show. “Peter, why did you tell me you’re an alien?” Ned finally gets out.

“I was still waiting for the right time, man, so sorry.”

“This is ridiculous,” Tony says, shaking his head. “Why would they even think that?”

_“I’m very intrigued by this theory,”_ one of the hosts – Shane – says. “ _Why is Spider-Man an alien? I’m dying to know._ ”

_“Well, it is a bit of a long shot, and I couldn’t actually find any good evidence to back it up –“_

“Yeah, because it’s stupid,” Tony throws in.

_“-but everyone remembers the Battle of New York in 2012, right? And Iron Man fought in that battle, flew a bomb into a wormhole. Who says that he didn’t bring something back from there?”_

“Are they for real?” Peter and Ned can’t stop laughing at Tony’s incredulous expression. “Who comes up with stuff like that?”

“People on the internet?”

_“But if Stark brought him back from space in 2012, why didn’t he appear until 2016? And why did he have such a crappy suit before that?”_

_“Like I said, not a lot of evidence. It doesn’t really make sense in my opinion either, so let’s move on. The second theory is that Spider-Man is an enhanced individual like Captain America or Scarlet Witch, and everyone seems to be divided if he’d gained his powers from an experiment or if he was born with them.”_

_“And then Tony Stark found him on the internet and, what? Took him under his wing?”_

_“Basically, yeah. I mean, they were all manning up for their fights about the Accords, so why not bring someone new in?”_

Peter is pretty close to spiraling right now, because, holy shit, that’s actually really close to what actually happened, but then he feels a hand on his arm. Tony gives a tight smile, his way of saying that he shouldn’t worry about it, that everything is going to be alright, and Peter tries to push the anxious thoughts from his head.

_“To find out more about Spider-Man, we went to Queens and talked to an expert on the topic of Spider-Man.”_ The scenes cuts to Shane and Ryan sitting in a park in Queens. Opposite of them sits –

“Holy shit. Is that really-“

“Did they really say expert? Because that can’t be true.”

“This has to be fake!”

“What are you talking about?” Tony asks, not knowing why the boys are freaking out.

_“Hi, my name is Flash Thompson, and I know everything there is to know about Spider-Man.”_ Peter almost chokes on the gummy worms in his mouth, and he can’t hear a single word of the interview over Ned’s hysterical laughter.

FRIDAY – being the smart AI she is – stops the video and rewinds it to the start of the interview. Ned is still laughing, Peter’s head is still in his hands, and Tony still doesn’t understand what’s going on. “Do you know this Flash person?”

“He goes to our school,” Peter mumbles through his hands, “and he’s on the Decathlon team.”

“He’s an alternate,” Ned adds when he finally calmed down enough to speak again. “Dude, that’s why he’s been so smug for weeks. I mean, I would be, too.”

“Oh my God, he’ll be insufferable in school.” Ned groans at Peter’s words, nodding along. Hopefully, MJ will make a snarky comment that’ll shut him up for the day before their first class starts. She has the incredible useful talent to shut him up with a simple glare. In this moment, Peter would love to swap his superpowers with hers. “And did they really say he’s the expert? Like, in what universe?”

“I know, right? It’s so ironic, ‘cause –“ Ned stops when Peter gives him a very sharp, warning look. He doesn’t need Tony knowing that Flash is the bully who’s giving him trouble at school. He would probably do something that’ll make Pepper very mad and Peter very embarrassed, like showing up in his Iron Man suit at school to intimidate him.

However, Tony is having none of it. He watches the boys with a curious look in his eyes. “I get the feeling that you’re not telling me something.” They stay quiet, which is so unlike them, that’s basically all the affirmation Tony needs. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” they say in unison. “Just, eh –“ Peter looks to Ned, but the boy is clearly panicking and no help at all, “Hey, FRIDAY, can you start the video again?”

Tony looks like he wants to say something, but the video is already playing again. “ _Flash, you’re the one behind the SpiderWatch account on Twitter_ ,” Ryan explains.

“ _That’s right_.” That isn’t news to the boys. Flash announces that it’s his account at least every three days. It got to the point where the worry if he doesn’t.

_“Do you think Spider-Man is an alien?_ ” Shane asks.

_“No, I don’t think so. I mean, the aliens from New York back in 2012 looked a lot different than him.”_

The screen cuts to black again, and the blue letters appear on screen. _“but isn’t Thor an alien, too?”_

_“(wheezes)”_

_“I mean he-he is! he’s from space and not human.”_

_“I don’t think, uh, that the-the god of thunder would … really appreciate it if you call him an alien.”_

“Oh, he wouldn’t,” Tony says. “I had an entirely too long conversation with him about it. He really like his god title.”

_“well-…yeah, but my point is, uh, that aliens can look like humans.”_

_“okay, that’s true, but this theory specifically implies that-that he’s an … I don’t know what to call him. a-a chitauri alien? from the chitauri species?”_

_“(laughs)”_

The screen cuts back to the messy office. _“But there’s another theory that discusses Spider-Man not being anything human at all. The third theory is that Spider-Man is not an alien or an enhanced individual, but a robot.”_

“Dude,” Ned whispers, eyes comically wide, “it would be _so_ cool if you’d be a robot.”

Peter nods his head. “Makes the healing a lot easier, too. I could just replace all the parts that are damaged.” Tony clears his throat in a way that tells Peter that he’s not amused at all. He grins sheepishly at him. “Just kidding.”

“Yeah, you say that now, but in two weeks, you’ll be begging me for a robotic arm.”

“Actually –“ Tony groans, probably already regretting mentioning the robotic arm.

_“A robot?”_ Shane asks.

_“Yeah. I mean, it’s not that far-fetched, is it? If anyone could do it, it would be Tony Stark.”_ At that statement, Tony’s ego triples, and he mumbles a _that’s right_ under his breath. Peter has to agree. _“And just look at Vision.”_

_“But is he really a robot? They never really clarified it, did they?”_

_“I fell like we would need an episode just to discuss that.”_

Before they can dive deeper into that topic, the screen cuts back to the park in Queens. _“I don’t think Spider-Man is a robot,”_ Flash says. “ _He’s too… human to be one.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I mean, even if you assume he’s like Vision, they move entirely differently. And the way he talks and acts-“_ Flash shrugs, probably trying to look cool, but failing miserably at it. _“Ask anyone who ever talked to him. The way he behaves, how he talks, how he cares about the people of Queens, it’s just – it feels very human. I don’t think artificial intelligence isn’t good enough yet to behave like Spider-Man does.”_

Ned and Peter can only stare at the screen in shocked silence. Eventually, Ned says dryly: “You think he’ll deny ever saying this when he finds out that you’re Spider-Man?”

“Definitely,” Peter deadpans. “Probably deletes all the accounts and tries to get this video taken down.”

“Seriously, who is this guy?” Tony asks again, but they ignore him.

_“So you think he’s someone with enhanced abilities who can shoot spiderwebs out of his hands?”,_ Shane asks.

_“Oh no, the webs are artificial. If you take a look at his suit –“_ The screen cuts to a picture of Spider-Man where you can see almost his entire suit. “- _he has some devices on his wrist from where the webs come from. But everything else – his strength, sticking to walls – that’s all him_.”

“C’mon, that’s really the best guy they could find as an expert?” Tony complains, actually leaning forward in his mild rage. “He has a Twitter account about you and took one look at your suit and that’s it? _That’s_ the standard?”

“They did say you didn’t answer them,” Peter argues.

Before Tony can continue, Ryan asks: _“Have you ever met him personally?”_

A shit-eating grin appears on Flash’s face, the one Peter and Ned know pretty well. He always has that grin on his face whenever he makes it clear that he’s better than everyone else. _“Well, most of Queens has met him at some point, but I actually helped him out once._ ” Shane and Ryan seem properly floored, and Flash waves it off, trying to look nonchalant which he completely fails at. _“Yeah, he needed a car and I gave him mine. No big deal.”_

“Didn’t you completely crash his car?” Ned ask, a smile spreading across his face. Peter just nods – back then, driving the car had been absolutely nerve-racking, but in hindsight, it’s actually pretty funny, even if it was just the look on Flash’s face. 

The blue and yellow dialogue comes up again.

_“why does Spider-Man need a car?”_

_“yeah, isn’t his entire gimmick that, uhm, he can just swing around?”_

“I can’t believe he’s the expert,” Tony mumbles. “What kind of journalism is this? Did they not check their resources beforehand? Couldn’t they get anyone more qualified?”

“Well, they tried, but you-“

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t answer, I heard you the first time.” The look in his eyes shifts. “But that’s about to change.” He fishes out his phone, opening a very familiar app.

Peter stiffens. This has a lot of potential to end in a disaster. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m going to tweet something.”

Both boys almost jump off the couch, although for entirely different reasons. “But you said no posting stupid stuff on social media!” Peter screeches, not yet decided if he’s actually delighted or terrified.

“That’s a rule _for you,_ not me.”

“You can’t tag Flash, it’ll just go to his head that Iron Man mentioned him,” Ned adds quickly, practically vibrating with excitement. Peter shoots him a disbelieving look, but his friend shrugs. “C’mon, dude, as if we can stop him.”

Still looking as his phone, Tony smirks. “Fred, I like you more and more.” Peter thinks about correcting him, but Ned is beaming, so maybe it’s not that important right now.

“Miss Potts will be angry,” he tries instead, deciding that Tony tweeting about this is most likely not the best idea. “It’ll probably will be a publicity nightmare.” Mentioning an angry Pepper and bad publicity is usually a very strong argument. Not today, though.

Tony waves his hand dismissively, his thumbs flying over the display. “Nope. It shows I’m up to date with rascals like you, she’ll love it.”

“But what if they want to interview you and you accidently say something that’ll reveal my identity?”

This time, Tony gives him a look that could almost be described as hurt. “C’mon. Do you really think I would say anything that would put you in danger? Anyway, it’ll probably be saver if I answer their questions and mislead them, instead of someone figuring it out by chance.”

A warm, almost fuzzy feeling spreads in Peter’s chest at hearing his words and the underlining message. However, he still feels like he shouldn’t give up without a fight. “I’m just saying, Miss Potts says you have a terrible record at sticking to a script.”

“You need to listen less to her and start worshipping every single one of my ideas. That’s your job as _my_ intern,” Tony jokes, and then he dramatically hits send on his tweet, his smirk widening. Peter, telling himself that there was absolutely nothing he could’ve done to stop his mentor, just hopes that Tony lets him tag along when they interview him, so he can get a picture.


	19. Christmas shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> #4 “You’re impossible to shop for!”
> 
> #55 “Why can’t our house look like that?” “Are you kidding? Do you know what our electrical bill would look like if we put all those lights up on the house?”

May loves her nephew. She really does. But if Peter gets into the Christmas spirit, it’s a lot to handle. Like, _a lot_. Sometimes, it’s worse than the premiere of a new Star Wars movie. Most of the time, it’s adorable, especially when he was younger and his eyes started to sparkle at the simplest of light strings or Christmas stars that were hung up. Peter’s eyes still start to light up whenever he hears the first Christmas song playing on the radio, and he’s still the first one to bake cookies and break out all the decorations and start a ridiculously long Christmas countdown – but now, he gets very obsessive and stubborn about it.

Peter gasps loudly, and points to a picture of a house that is fully covered in Christmas light. “Why can’t our house look like that?”

“Are you kidding? Do you know what our electrical bill would look like if we put all those lights up on the house?” May just shakes her head, and keeps pushing the cart. “Besides, we live in an apartment. We’d have to talk to our landlord about it, and you know how he is.”

“Well, I’m sure he can’t say no to me. And I can also pay the bills for you. Better yet, get you your own generator for it. That looks like something that could cause a black out for the entirety of Queens.”

Ah, yes, that is May’s wrong decision speaking. Also known as Tony Stark. Because the billionaire and her nephew have grown a lot closer over the past few months, thanks to spending absurd amounts of hours in Tony’s lab, superhero-ing, and Tony’s slightly surprising transformation into a quasi helicopter parent, May thought he could help reign Peter in while they were Christmas shopping.

Big mistake.

Instead of reigning the boy in, he encourages him. Their hyped-up energies feed on each other, giving them even crazier ideas, and sending them into a childish, uncontainable delirium. They wear matching, unbelievable cheesy Christmas sweaters (Peter wears an Iron Man one, Tony a Spider-Man one), they already made enough cookies to feed all of Queens and Thor, and they started a betting pool whether it would snow on Christmas Eve or not. It’s exhausting and ridiculous and crazy and it melts May’s heart.

Except when they’re trying to cover every inch of their apartment in tawdrily lights. “No,” she says firmly, and puts back all the lights Peter just dropped into their cart.

“Please, May,” he pouts, eyes wide and almost watery. However, she just shakes her head. After all these years, she’s immune to Peter’s Puppy Eyes.

That isn’t the case for someone else, though.

“They’ll look great on the Tower,” Tony announces, dropping the lights in his own cart, even adding a few more. “I’m thinking about wrapping that entire thing into lights. What do you think, bud?”

Naturally, Peter almost jumps to the ceiling out of excitement. Literally, in his case. “Mr. Stark, that’s awesome! You could make different shapes with the lights and use different colors and-“ May filters out the rest of his rambling, knowing that Pepper will put a quick stop to this.

They reach the aisle with Christmas themed table decorations when Tony asks: “I’ve been informed that there are some rules for the gift shopping.”

“You mean you finally listened to the five voicemails I left you?” May deadpans, eyeing a few scented candles.

“No. FRIDAY listened to them and passed it on.”

“That I threatened to cut Peter’s lab time if you give us expensive gifts?”

“What?! May, no!” Peter almost drops the reindeer themed snow globe in his hands.

“Which won’t happen,” Tony quickly says, reassure Peter that their time together won’t be shortened. “Because I can totally do cheap gifts. No problem. $500 is cheap, right?”

Sometimes, it is quite easy to forget that Tony is a billionaire. When he wears the same three old shirts from his favorite bands, or eats greasy take-out with them, or repairs literally everything that’s broken. And then there are times when it’s painfully obvious how rich and detached from ordinary prices he actually is. This is one of those moments.

Peter pales. “$500?”

“Yeah.” Tony looks from one Parker to the other. “That’s acceptable, right? No? Judging by your expressions, I guess not. Okay, 200.” Peter and May are still speechless. Tony pulls his eyebrows together. “Well… I guess $150 could work, I just have to look for some clearances or sales or something. Maybe improvise a bit.”

“Uhm, Mr.-Mr. Stark,” Peter stutters, “usually our limit per gift is like, 20 bucks.”

“You’re kidding.” The billionaire looks from Peter to May and back again, waiting for one of them to laugh and tell him that yeah, $200 for a gift is completely fine. For a few seconds, they all just stare at each other, until Tony realizes that no one is kidding. “20 bucks?! What am I suppose to buy you? A stick of butter?”

Somehow, Tony thinking that butter costs $20 is incredible funny to May. “See it as a challenge,” she laughs, putting the cinnamon scented candles in the cart. Peter is snickering, obviously delighted about his mentor’s distraught face.

“A challenge? That’s way more than a challenge! You’re impossible to shop for, you know that? Who finds gifts for 20 bucks?!”

“Have you ever heard of the dollar store?” Peter asks, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Oh, yeah I have, it’s on my places-I-will-never-go-to-list, right next to every kind of public transportation!”

The superheroes keep on bantering with Tony exclaiming every once in a while that _$20 is basically nothing, c’mon May, it’s Christmas, have a heart for handsome billionaires_ and Peter suggesting that he can make something home-made, too, as long as the materials aren’t over the $20 budget – which sends Tony into another fit.

Yeah, Christmas with Peter is not the easiest thing. Christmas with Peter _and_ Tony is pretty nerve-wracking. But May wouldn’t want it any other way.


	20. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Hey babe, dunno if you're okay with accepting prompts and you totally don't have to do this but anyway I really love the stuff you've written so far. So if you're up for it, consider this prompt where it's a parallel scene to Iron Man 3 and Tony has a nightmare. Pepper tries to wake him and almost gets blasted by one of his suits. Except this time it's Peter who tries to wake him and the suit actually does blast Peter.

“Hey Mr. Stark, do you-“ Peter stops as he looks up from his latest batch experimental web fluid and over to his mentor. For the past few hours – well, _days_ , according to FRIDAY – Tony has been sitting hunched over his workbench, completely engrossed in his work and ignoring that he is a normal human being with normal human needs, like sleeping or eating.

The nanobots of his new suit are not functioning the way they should be. They’re not following Tony’s commands the way he wants them to, because they aren’t entirely synched up with his thoughts yet. He found the cause of the problem easily enough, but fixing it… that’s an entirely different story. The nanobots are currently connected to Tony’s brain, studying the brainwaves and mapping them out, learning which thought leads to which command. It’s important work if Tony wants the suit to function the way he envisions it, but it’s absolutely strenuous and exhausting.

Now, his need to sleep finally took over. Tony’s head lays on the workbench, electrodes still connected to his skull, and the soldering iron in his hand smolders slightly. No matter how fascinating it is to watch a genius like Tony Stark work, making the impossible possible, Peter can’t help but relax at that sight. It’s good that he finally gets some rest – even though he should probably be in a bed.

Peter tiptoes over to his mentor and gently prays the soldering iron out of his hand, switching it off before they accidently set the entire Tower on fire. As he debates whether he should carry him over to the couch – or at least put a pillow under his head – Peter notices the pained expression on Tony’s face and hears a soft whimper. He recognizes it at once, having experienced the same often enough: a nightmare.

“Mr. Stark, wake up. It’s just a dream.” Peter gently shakes his shoulder, but he doesn’t get any reaction. Quite the opposite. Tony scrunches his face even more, visibly flinching when the boy touches him. “Mr. Stark?”

Suddenly, Peter’s spidey sense goes crazy, sending shock waves through his entire body. He jumps up, looking around for the incoming danger – and comes face to face with a fully assembled Iron Man suit. For a split second, he can only stare at the unexpressive mask with the glowing eyes, but it’s a split second too long. The suit raises his hand, repulsor already charged, and shoots him.

Peter hits the bulletproof glass walls of the lab before he can comprehend what happened. Something cracked, but he can’t tell if it was the glass or his spine. He tries to take a breath but he can’t; not only because his lungs seem to not be working right now, but also because the Iron Man suit followed him, having a choking grip around his throat and pressing him against the glass, his feet floating a few inches above the ground.

Never in his entire life has Peter been afraid of Iron Man. Not when he first saw him on TV, or when he stood in the middle of the Stark Expo disaster and witnessed the suit in action with his own eyes, or when he saw how easily he killed the Chitauri aliens. Never. Quite the opposite, actually. He always felt protected because he knew that Tony was inside the suit. But now, as he stares at the emotionless mask and the sound of the charging repulsor rings in his ears, Peter is absolutely terrified, frozen in place.

The repulsor fires.

Peter waits for the inevitable impact and it does come, but different than he expected. Instead of feeling unimaginable pain, gravity takes over and he falls to the floor. Before him, in a pile of deconstructed pieces, lays the Iron Man suit. He can only stare at it, half expecting it to re-assemble itself and springing back into action, but it doesn’t. Then, he hears a noise, one can’t identify, and looks up.

Tony stands a couple of feet in front of him. The wires from the electrodes on his head are ripped. His arm is raised, encased in an Iron Man glove, the glowing of the repulsor fading slowly. All of that should be enough to focus on, but it’s not what worries Peter. It’s the absolutely horrified expression on Tony’s face that demands all of his attention. His face is paler than white, his eyes impossibly wide, and his mouth agape. Tony doesn’t take a single breath.

For a tense second, they just stare at each other. “T-Thanks,” Peter finally croaks. His throat hurts, and he swallows twice to get rid of the feeling.

Tony takes a deep breath. Peter realizes that the man is shaking. “Fuck,” he curses, eyes jumping from Peter to the suit and back. “Fuck! Shit!” Mad as hell, the mechanic rips his glove off and throws it against the wall. The remaining electrodes follow quickly, and Peter stares at him and listens to him cursing in ways he never heard before.

“It-It’s fine, Mr. Stark.” He scrambles onto his feet, flinching at the pain in his back. “I’m fine.”

That is obviously the wrong thing to say. Tony whirls around, trying to contain his anger but failing absolutely horribly at it. “ _Nothing_ is fine!” he screams and stamps over to him. “I almost killed you!”

Peter does his best to stand his ground. “It wasn’t you, it was the suit.”

“The fucking suit that was connected to my own fucking _brain_!” Tony’s eyes are getting wet, and Peter realizes that the man isn’t angry at him. He’s angry at himself, terrified, and frantic. He blames himself for hurting Peter, but Peter doesn’t blame him. Not in the slightest. That thought hasn’t even crossed his mind.

“It’s okay-“

“No!” The man turns away again, wiping everything from the closest workbench on the floor in a fit of anger. “No, Peter! I- … Nothing is okay! You almost- Shit!” And then, softer, almost inaudible, he adds: “Not again.”

Peter wants to ask what he means by _again_ , but he doesn’t dare it. He wants Tony to calm down, not start spiraling. Or spiral even further. While he tries to calm his racing heart down, he stares at Tony’s back and desperately thinks about what to say. But he has no idea. Tony has always been the one to calm him down, somehow finding the right words despite his claims to be terrible at emotional talks. Peter wishes he has the same talent, but everything that comes to mind is _It’s okay_ , _I’m fine_ – which is apparently the wrong thing to say.

Then, Tony pushes away from the table and turns to face him. He sniffs once, and his face is full of determination. “I’m destroying the nanobots. All of them.”

That isn’t what Peter expected at all. “What? No! You can’t! They’re awesome!”

“They’re too fucking dangerous,” he growls, taking to steps towards him. “That’s the end of it.”

“You can’t destroy them because of one accident.”

“One accident that almost killed you!”

“But it was just an accident! I know you would never hurt me!” His words stop Tony, who only blinks at him. Peter, being the smart boy he is, takes that opportunity. “It was a knee jerk reaction. Like, when I flinch because your music is a bit too loud. Or when I break a door knob accidently. It was just a bad reaction to a nightmare.”

“I hurt you,” Tony says and suddenly his voice is so full of hurt that Peter seriously wonders who got slammed into a wall.

Peter shakes his head. “Not on purpose. You never would.”

Tony doesn’t move for an uncharacteristically long time. Peter stares back, not moving himself, praying that that was the right thing to say. Then, almost hesitantly, Tony asks: “Are you hurt?”

He reaches out to Peter, but his hand stops mid-air, like he isn’t sure if he is allowed to touch him. Like he is afraid to hurt him. Well, that can’t be happening. Before Peter can even think twice about it, he moves forward and wraps his arms around Tony, resting his head on his shoulder. Slowly, the icy fear that has filled his veins, melts away. “Nothing that won’t heal. I had rougher patrols.”

After what feels like an eternity, Tony hugs Peter back. If you can describe it as a hug. He crushes Peter against him, holding him as close as possible. His repeated apologies almost drown out Tony’s too fast heartbeat that drums in Peter’s ears. He honestly can’t say who is consoling who.

Peter never sees that particular suit that attacked him again. When he asks about it, Tony ignores him and FRIDAY has orders not to answer him. Tony continues his work on the nanobots, but never when Peter or anyone else is anywhere near the lab. According to FRIDAY, Tony makes sure to always take enough breaks in between to get some rest. Peter should be happy about it, but, somehow, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. 


	21. The Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> I don't know if you accept requests but if you're up for it could you write something where Peter gets rescued from a kidnapping and Tony is trying to help him recover but Peter only views Tony as his next "Master" and he's learning all of Tony's "rules" to satisfy him, like 'eating regularly' and 'crying is bad'. So just when Tony thinks Peter is okay, it's comes out that Peter is just satisfying the rules and getting no where with recovery ;)

Of course, just when Tony thinks everything will be alright, it turns out nothing is alright. At all. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of all right.

Peter has been kidnapped by an anti-mutant extremist group that found out Spider-Man’s real identity. Five weeks, three days, eighteen hours, and thirty-six minutes later, the entire Avengers team stormed their secret hide-out, showing no mercy to anyone in there, all of them too consumed by their rage and revenge for taking their youngest teammate. Tony found Peter in a cell, screaming from the top of his lungs about some rules and trashing around, obviously not knowing what was happening. They had to knock him out to get him to the jet, all the while the unbearable guilt inside Tony’s chest ate its way through all of his organs.

Bruce checked him out as soon as they arrived at the compound, finding no trace of injuries or drugs in his body. If they’ve done anything to him, it would’ve been a long time ago. Tony didn’t know if those news were good or bad, thinking about the extreme way Peter has reacted to them. When Peter woke up hours later, he had troubles remembering any of them and was very cautious of anyone stepping in front of him. For days, he just sat in his bed, unmoving and barely reacting to any of them. Always just watching though, as if he was waiting for a specific thing to happen. Tony tried to get him to open up by bringing him food and talking about anything that crossed his mind, hoping it would jumpstart his memory.

And it did help. After a couple of days, Peter willingly accepted the food Tony brought him, gave him a few timid smiles that quickly grew wider, and he laughed about his jokes. Soon, they transferred him from the medbay to his old room. Peter was still hesitant about the other Avengers, sticking close to Tony’s side and just watching everyone else, but the mechanic didn’t pay it a lot of attention, too high on all the serotonins because Peter was _finally_ recovering. They ate together, they watched movies together, he even started helping him out in the lab sometimes, marveling over his Iron Man suits and all his other creations as if he’s never seen them before.

Everything was fine – until Tony starts noticing things.

The first thing he notices are the cheeseburgers. For five days in a row, Peter asks for cheeseburgers. Which was always fine with Tony, he loves cheeseburgers – but Peter loves pizza. He can live off of pizza, even those weird combinations like hot dog pizza _(“Buddy, if you want a hot dog, we can just make them, we don’t need to put them on a pizza.”- “But, Mr. Stark, it’s so much better this way!”)._ Not once has the boy askes for a pizza. Then there are the snacks. Because of his metabolism, Peter needs a lot of food, hence all the snacks. But he gets himself snacks exactly every two and a half hours like clockwork. And it’s always the same, always the exact same snack Tony brought him the first time: a few crackers, some cheese, and an apple. Peter laughs at his jokes and smiles whenever he sees him – and that’s it. He never smiles at someone else, never laughs about any of Clint’s dad jokes that usually have him snorting his drink through his nose. No, he doesn’t laugh - not unless Tony laughs first.

But the biggest sign that something is wrong is his movie choice.

“What do you wanna watch?” Tony asks, already dreading the answer. Because he knows what he’ll answer. 

“The Breakfast Club,” Peter answers with a wide smile. They watch this movie every day. It’s the movie Tony chose when they first watched a movie together. 

“Peter, what’s going on?” he asks instead of ordering FRIDAY to start the movie, unable to ignore this.

For a second, something slips off Peter’s face, and Tony can see a frightful look in his eyes. Then, before he can even process what he just saw, the boy is smiling again. “What do you mean? We’re watching a movie.”

“Yeah, the one we’ve watched every day. At the exact same time.”

Peter starts to fidget, picking the dirt from underneath his fingernails. “I-I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Don’t you wanna watch something else?”

At once, he shakes his head, almost in a panic. “No! No, I don’t! I like the movie, I do!”

“More than Star Wars?”

“Yes!”

This is the final nail in the coffin. Something is definitely wrong.

“Peter, don’t lie to me!” Tony isn’t screaming, but he can’t keep his worry and frustration out of his voice. However, he’s not getting the reaction he’d anticipated. No, it’s much worse. 

Peter flinches, startled by his loud voice – and then he starts to smile. A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes (that are full of fear, Tony realizes with a sharp pain in his chest), but it looks just like the one he’s seen these past few days. “What the-“ Tony whispers, the puzzle pieces inside his head getting pieced together with every passing second.

Peter doesn’t stop there. Whatever he’s seeing can’t be funny, because the situation is as far from funny as it can get, but he still starts to laugh. High and carefree and, now that Tony knows what he has to look out for, totally fake.

“Stop it,” he orders and gets to his feet. Tony tries so hard not to let all of the turbulent emotions and the hot anger – at himself, at those bastards who took him, at the universe for doing this – inside him show.

It doesn’t work. Peter almost jumps up from the couch, the laugh stopping at once. “I-I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, the words tumbling out of his mouth almost too fast to understand them, “I’ll be better, I promise! I’ll do better, I’ll follow the rules better, please. Please, I promise!” Tony can do nothing but stare at him in utter disbelieve, and Peter presses himself into the couch, making himself as small as possible. “I-I just-… You didn’t give me rules and I thought I had them figured them out! I’m sorry, I’ll be better, just tell me the rules! Please!”

Tony feels like someone pulled a rug from underneath his feet. He slums back onto the couch, because his legs gave out underneath him. How could he have missed this? And what exactly did those bastards do to him? “What,” he begins with in a hoarse voice and has to clear his throat, “what rules, Peter?”

This seems to take him by surprise. He pulls his eyebrows together, looking at him like he is trying to figure out if this is a test of some sorts. “The rules. The ones I have to follow. Like… Like eating cheeseburgers. And a lot of snacks.”

“And watching The Breakfast Club,” Tony finishes for him. Peter nods his head eagerly, obviously happy that he got the rules right. All Tony can do is bury his head inside his hands and take a deep breath. Has he been blinded by his wish for Peter’s recovery that he didn’t notice that the boy is not recovering? Has he been so desperate for it? Tony replays the last days inside his head, tries to figure out if he’d said or done anything specific that made Peter think there are rules for him to follow. But he can’t find any. “Were there rules in the… other place?”

“Of course,” he answers immediately. “No talking, no running away, no leaving my room, always doing what they tell me to do, no looking them in the eyes.”

Tony wants to turn back time to storm that hideout again, just so he could punch those guys again. Hard. Repetitively. And then some.

Slowly, he raises his head again to look at Peter, who is still pressed against the back of the couch. He thinks about just telling him that there are no rules for him to follow, but seeing that Peter immediately searched for new rules, Tony isn’t sure that that’s really the smartest move. They probably need an expert to get past this coping mechanism or whatever it is, and Tony may be an expert in many areas, but not this one.

So, damage control. At least, for now.

Taking another deep breath, Tony sits up again. “The cheeseburgers and snacks and whatever aren’t the rules.” At once, Peter’s eyes widen, panic written all over his face, so the mechanic hurries to continue. “But I’m not mad. I uh, I haven’t explained them, so that’s on me. Okay? Not your fault.” Peter gives him a very hesitant and short nod, like he can’t understand the concept that something isn’t his fault. Tony forces himself to ignore that, because he needs to deal with one problem at a time. “There’s only one rule. A very simple one. You ready for it?” The boy gives an eager nod. “Don’t lie to me. Okay? Don’t tell me anything because you think I want to hear it. Don’t tell me you want cheeseburgers just because I like them.”

“But…” Peter doesn’t finish his sentence and stares at Tony with a bewildered expression. “That… that’s all?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just one rule.”

“I know. But not lying is tougher than it looks.” The boy doesn’t seem convinced, but doesn’t argue either. “You think you can do it?”

“I will try my best.”

“That’s my boy,” Tony says with a smile. He desperately wants to reach out and pull him in a hug, but he doesn’t. Peter still sits at the other end of the couch and made no move to get closer to him. The last thing Tony wants is for Peter to think he has to be close to him, to interpret it as a rule. “Now, I will ask you a question and you have to answer it. Remember, no lying, though.” Peter nods again, his face serious like he’s expecting a meaningful question. And it is a meaningful question. “Do you really like The Breakfast Club better than Star Wars?”

At first, Peter says nothing, probably waiting for more or trying to figure out if there is a hidden meaning to the question. Then, a tentative: “No?”

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“No,” he repeats, this time with more confidence.

For the first time since they started this conversation, the tight knot inside Tony’s chest starts to loosen. It’s still there, but he just hopes – begs, prays – that this is the first real step to recovery. “Great. Now, what about dinner? I could eat something.” Peter nods in agreement and Tony knows this is real, because the boy can always eat something. “Cheeseburgers?”

“Never again.”

Somehow, Tony actually manages a genuine laugh.


	22. Field Trip AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irondadbingo Cliches: Field Trip AU

“Hi, I’m Ellie, and I‘ll be your guide for today.” The young woman who looks like she just graduated from college gives them a wide, happy smile. “Welcome to Stark Industries! Now, before we start the tour, I’ll give each of you a visitor badge. Please make sure that it’s visible at all times, and don’t lose it. They’re a big deal around here.” Ned gives Peter a questioning look, and he solemnly nods. He’d seen Happy yell at someone because they’d forgotten their badge, and it hadn’t been pretty.

Out of the corners of his eyes, Peter sees Flash giving him a mean-looking smirk. “Ms. Ellie, Peter is an intern here. Does he need a visitor badge?” Instead of the embarrassed annoyance Peter usually feels whenever Flash tries to debunk his internship, he feels a smug kind of proud. He’s expected this.

“Oh, he does?” Ellie looks around the group, trying to figure out who this Peter is, and Flash – always the helpful citizen – points him out. But Peter is prepared. He takes out the badge that all the usual R&D interns have, holding it out for Ellie to see. She studies it for a second, and gives him big smile. “That’s great! I didn’t know one of my colleagues would be part of the tour today.”

“Wait, so Parker is actually an intern here?” Flash asks a bit dumbfounded, clearly not happy with the answer. He probably wants security guards dragging Peter out of the building.

Ellie shrugs, not really paying attention to him anymore. “He has a badge, so he must be. Has everyone got a badge? Awesome! Okay, there’s only one more thing we have to do before we start the tour, and that’s a quick security check. If you would all line up in front of the metal detectors, please.” Peter and the rest of his Physics class, as well as Ms. Warren and Mr. Harrington, shuffle to the security check point. He has been looking forward to this field trip. Despite spending about three days a week here, he has never seen anything besides the garage, Tony’s private elevator, his private lab, and the penthouse. Mr. Stark has always promised to give him a grand tour, but they always got distracted by one thing or the other.

At first, Peter had dreaded the trip. Flash would try to expose his fake internship, and Tony would definitely do everything he could to embarrass him, because he just loves to mess with him like that. Peter had already been looking for school he could transfer to after this trip, but then a small miracle happened. Tony isn’t here today, and neither is Happy. They’re in Washington, visiting a company SI might make a joint project with, and they won’t return until tomorrow afternoon. That takes the two people who’re most likely to blow his cover out of the picture. Trying to pass as an ordinary intern was a tad more complicated, but after confiding in Ms. Potts, she lent him a blank badge he could use – his real badge is a little chip in the watch Tony made for him, just like the one the genius has. When someone from the R&D department would actually ask him about the internship, he has all the answers he needs to dodge their questions. There was absolutely no way this could turn into a disaster.

So, naturally, it turns into a disaster.

The first half of the day is fantastic. They start with a movie about SI, as well as the Avengers, and Tony added B.A.R.F. projections for a certain wow-effect. Which, of course, is absolutely awesome, especially when Iron Man starts flying through the audience, Cap’s shield almost beheads Cindy, lighting strikes Mr. Harrington, and Black Widow flips from the ceiling. Peter makes a mental note to ask Tony if he wants to start producing movies. After that, they visit the labs, and Peter gets a chance to use all his well-practiced excuses why nobody has ever seen him before. Everyone buys it, and Flash is pouting, so it’s great. Because Midtown isn’t just any High School, they get to play around for a bit, building robots and other stuff, while all the scientists there try to be not-really-subtill about interesting them in a career at SI.

The day takes a turn at lunch. They all eat in the cafeteria, and the food is so much better than the food at their school cafeteria. Ellie sits with them, and patiently answers all the weird questions they have. Half of them already declared that they’ll definitely apply at SI after college – Peter can’t help but feel quite proud about already working here, knowing that Tony will let him continue to work here if he asks.

“Hey, you! Yes, you over there, the one with the stupid expression on your face. Where’s your badge? You need to wear it all the time.”

Peter’s blood turns to ice. Oh no. No, this can’t be happening. He whirls around in his chair, hoping that he just misheard, and that there’s someone else working at SI who is crazy about everyone having their badge with them all the time. But, of course, he isn’t that lucky. Happy stands in the middle of the cafeteria, carrying a food tray in one hand, and pointing at some poor employee with the other one. Peter is on his feet before he can think twice about it, and all but runs over to the man.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses as a greeting. His voice is on the edge of panicky, and he can feel the eyes of his peers drilling inside his back.

Happy looks startled for a second, but then he pulls his eyebrows together. “I work here. What are _you_ doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?” His eyes move to the ground of teenagers behind him. He looks less than pleased. “A field trip? Why haven’t I heard about it? You tell me what you’re having for lunch _every day_.”

Peter ignores him, because there’re clearly more important things to discuss right now. “Why aren’t you in Washington? You’re not supposed to be here today!”

“They had to cancel the meeting on a short notice, some technical issues. Stuff like that happens.”

The young superhero can’t understand how Happy can be so nonchalant about the entire situation. This is a catastrophe. It changes _everything_. “Does that mean Mr. Stark is here, too? Or did he stay in DC to annoy Congress or something?”

“Tony doesn’t know you’re here?” Peter just shakes his head. Happy snorts, and continues his way to a table as if he hasn’t got a single care in the world. “Good luck, then. You’ll need it. He’s in a good mood today.”

As if he’d listened in – and who knows, maybe he has, FRIDAY is everywhere – Peter’s phone starts ringing. He doesn’t need to check the caller ID to know who calls him, but he pulls the device out of his pocket anyway. TONY STARK is written across the fractured screen. Peter watches it ring, wondering if it makes any difference if he answers the call or not. If push comes to shove, Tony can always talk to him trough FRIDAY. The phone keeps ringing. His finger hovers over the screen, right between ACCEPT and DECLINE.

“Mr. Parker!” Peter jumps a little, pressing DECLINE, and quickly slipping the phone back into his pocket. Ms. Warren does not look happy, and everyone else is ready to continue the tour. “Are you going to join us?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry,” he quickly apologizes, and hurries over to them. In his pocket, his phone starts vibrating again. As they walk out of the cafeteria and continue their tour, Ned gives him another questioning look, but Peter simply shakes his head. Maybe, if he just stays silent and behaves very unsuspiciously, Tony will let this go.

Peter should’ve known that it is wishful thinking. His phone vibrates again in a staccato rhythm. With almost trembling fingers, he checks his messages.

**Tony Stark** _: It’s very rude to ignore my calls._

**Tony Stark** : _You better call me now._

**Tony Stark** _: Of course, you’re not doing what I tell you. When do you ever do what I tell you?_

**Tony Stark** : _Just remember that you could’ve avoided this by answering your phone._

Ellie is talking about all their green-energy projects, when her phone starts ringing and she excuses herself to answer it. Peter’s heart drops. This is terrible. Absolutely horrendous. Is it too late to throw himself out of the window? He doesn’t have his web shooters, but he’ll survive the fall, right? The 10th floor isn’t even _that_ high up. But before he can even take a step towards his freedom, Ellie turns back around, an enormous grin on her face. “Great news, guys! I can give you a very special treat. Please follow me to the elevator.”

Peter would rather fight the Vulture again than stepping inside the – extremely spacious – elevator, but Ms. Warren gives him a very stern look, and he shuffles in behind them. Ellie presses the button for the 89th floor. A floor he’s very well acquainted with. This is his Parker Luck for sure. Or he did something really terrible in his past life, and now Karma is catching up to him.

His phone vibrates again.

**Tony Stark** : _So excited to meet all your friends. I have so many questions for MJ._

**Tony Stark** : _You know that I can see you read my texts, right?_

**Peter Parker** : _Why can’t you be a normal boss and just be rude and pretend to not know me?_

**Tony Stark** : _Excuse me?_

**Tony Stark** _: Did you just call me normal?_

**Tony Stark** : _Unforgivable._

**Tony Stark** : _I was taking pity on you, you know? But that’s all gone now._

**Tony Stark** : _See you in a second, kid._

Peter groans and ignores the impulse to throw his phone against the elevator walls, but just slips it back into his pocket. “Dude,” Ned whispers besides him, “are you okay?”

He shakes his head. “Just tell May I love her, okay?” Ned doesn’t even have the chance to give him a confused look, because the doors of the elevator open and everyone curses, followed by a collective apology to Ms. Warren.

“That’s an appropriate reaction.” Tony stands in the middle of his lab, wearing one of the graphic shirts Peter gave to him on his birthday – Peter wonders if he deliberately changed in it or if he actually had worn this the entire day – and opens his arms in a grand gesture. “Welcome to my playground!” The holo-screens are lit up, displaying various project. An Iron Man armor stands in the corner, parts of it dismantled to give the illusion of him working on it, which Peter knows isn’t true. Soft rock music is playing in the background.

While his classmates, his teachers, and Ellie are overcome with awe, Peter is overcome with annoyance. Would anyone even notice if he just slips back into the elevator and leaves? But then Tony catches his eyes, and Peter knows it’s too late. Tony smirks, placing his hands in his pockets, rolling back on the balls of his feet. This can’t be good. “I know that you’re all very smart students, so I hope you can help me out a little bit. One of my employees has been very sassy to me. Ignoring my calls, calling me rude, and all that. Any ideas what I should do?”

“Fire him,” April deadpans immediately and Tony laughs.

“Do you hear that, Parker? They think I should fire you.”

At once, every pair of eyes is on Peter. His cheeks are on fire, and he begs the ground beneath his feet to open up and swallow him. But the ground is owned by Tony, so of course that doesn’t happen. “You called me in the middle of a school day.”

“Oh, don’t play that card. I only called because you were in my building instead of a classroom. If anything, I was just making sure that you’re not playing hooky.” Tony beckons him over, but Peter stays where he is, unable to move a single muscle in his body. If he would move, his body would probably choose to escape in any way possible. The genius rolls his eyes, and strolls over to him, still smirking. Somehow, Peter relaxes a bit, the physical proximity of his mentor calming his nerves (he still kind of wants to leave, though). “Anything you have to say in your defense, Parker?”

“You won’t fire me. It’s too much paperwork.”

“You’re lucky that you’re my favorite personal intern.”

“I’m your _only_ personal intern.”

“Exactly.” Tony’s smirk turns into a real smile, and when he puts an arm around his shoulders to quickly press him against his side, the corners of Peter’s mouth inch upwards, too.

“Wait, so he’s _your_ intern?” Abe asks, not even trying to hide his surprise.

“’course he is.”

“But he said he works for Boris from the 54th floor.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “There’s no Boris on the 54th floor. It’s a code. The other scientists would try to snatch Peter away, and I don’t like sharing my stuff.” Peter wants to protest, saying that he’s not his stuff, but Tony pays him no intention. His eyes roam over the crowd of young people, resting on Flash for a second. Peter wonders – hopes – it’s a coincident. “I’m aware that a lot of you didn’t believe Peter about his internship, so let me shine some light on the situation. The internship is real. Obviously, he does know me personally. And he also knows Spidey, given that he’s updating his suit regularly. Anyone who says anything different is lying, and implying that I’m lying, too. Think about it: does anyone of you really want to call Iron Man a liar?” Tony raises an eyebrow, daring anyone to pick up the figurative gauntlet. There’s a collective negation. “That’s what I thought. Now, back to the fun part. Who wants to meet my children?” He points to the bots. DUM-E is driving around in a circle excitingly, opening and closing his claw as if to say hi. U tries to play it cool, but Peter can tell that he’s equally excited.

Later, when everyone is preoccupied with exploring Tony’s amazing lab (the access to the really amazing stuff is, of course, locked), he magically appears at Peter’s side again. They’re standing in a corner of the lab, watching the chaos only an excited ground of nerd-students on a field trip could cause unfold. “You know, you should really thank me.”

“For what? Almost firing me in front of my entire class?”

“For making you the coolest kid in the entire school.” Peter scoffs, and they’re quiet for a moment. But Tony is not good at being silent, and neither is Peter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would try to embarrass me.”

“What? When would I ever do that? By the way, that over there is MJ, right? I recognize her because you can’t shut up about how pretty and scary she is. Honestly, your description is pretty accurate.”

Peter is sure that his head looks like a tomato. “Don’t you dare, Mr. Stark. Besides, you wouldn’t stand a chance against her.”

“I’m joking, kiddo. I’m not going to talk to her.” He smirks. “Or am I?”

“See, this is exactly why I didn’t tell you. You just love messing with me.”

Tony laughs, just loud enough for Peter to hear it, and puts his arm back around his shoulders. “Yeah, I do. But at the end of the day, I’m always on your side. You know that, right?” A warm, cozy feeling blooms inside Peter’s chest as he nods. Tony smiles at him softly, and sniffs once. “Now, what do you think if the armor would _accidently_ fire a shot near, let’s say, that Flash guy’s head?”


	23. Baby Peter AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irondadbingo Cliches: Baby Peter AU
> 
> and Prompt:
> 
> Hey for your irondad cliches bingo— the one where Tony looks after peter as a baby for Mary— could you maybe do like a sequel to that where Tony realises that the baby he looked after 15 years ago is the Spider-Man?

Tony deserves a drink. He definitely wants one. After all, he did everything he was supposed to do. Hold the speech that explained the science behind Stark Industries latest innovative weapon, wasn’t too snarky (Ms. Potts will definitely be proud of him, for sure, he can already see her iconic eyeroll) and had been on his best behavior – until now. Now, he can have a drink – or five –, listen to a few of the speeches that actually interest him on this conference, and mingle with the other scientists, maybe finding a companion for the night.

He strolls down the empty halls, most of the other attendees still sitting in on other talks and demonstrations. The hotel bar won’t open for another hour, but the minibar in his room is well stocked (or maybe re-stocked), and he doesn’t mind a quiet minute to organize his hectic thoughts. As long as it’s just a minute and not longer.

But the halls aren’t as empty as he has assumed. A few feet in front to the elevator that would take him to his suite, stands a woman, rummaging through a briefcase with an infectious kind of panic. Next to her on a couch that is clearly just a decoration and not an actually invitation to sit down is something what looks like a baby car seat. For a second, he wonders if he can just sneak by, but then he hears her swearing quietly, followed by an immediate apology to the car seat, which is followed by more self-muttering that he didn’t hear her, and Tony is kind of intrigued. 

“Do you need some help?” he asks. The woman whirls around, and he smiles. “Hi, uh-“ He quickly checks the badge around her neck, “Mary Parker. You seem to be in a bit of a pickle.”

“Yeah, uh, hi,” she answers, blinking a few times. Tony isn’t wearing the badge, but people always recognize him anyway. Mary shakes her head quickly, and reaches back into her briefcase. “I just-… I’m supposed to hand in my thesis – well, not _my_ thesis, it’s kinda a group effort, and my colleagues will kill me if I mess this up, but it’s not in here and I _know_ I put in here-“

“Okay, okay,” Tony quickly says, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, hoping it will calm down her panic. It doesn’t. If anything, her panic jumps over to him. “Just- Take a deep breath, okay? It’s no good if you pass out from hyperventilating or something.” Mary simply ignores his suggestions and is all but short of dumping everything in her briefcase on the floor. “Please, let me help. I can-“ Tony is about to offer to help look, maybe make some calls, or throw some money at however is waiting for the thesis.

Mary Parker has other ideas. “Can you just watch him for a second?” She nods her head to the car seat. “He’s asleep and I’ll be back in under five minutes, I promise.”

“I, uh-“ Tony blinks, and looks from the woman to the baby that is indeed sleeping. Who brings a baby to a science convention in the first place? “Do mothers always ask strangers to look after their children?”

“Well, considering you’re Tony Stark and the media would absolutely love it if I tell them that you stole my baby, I think I have some leverage.” Just at the thought of that headline, Tony grimaces. Pepper would _kill_ him. Actually, literally kill him, bury his body somewhere in his own backyard, and run the company herself. “Please? I think I know where it is, and it’s way faster if I run upstairs and grab it, instead of explaining to you where it might be.”

Tony’s eyes move from the frantic woman to the sleeping baby. “Uh, well, I-“

Apparently, that’s enough for a young mother to leave her helpless child in the care of a stranger. “Thank you so much! I promise I won’t be long!” And then she’s gone. For a second, the genius can’t process what just happened, and stares at the now vacant spot, the smell of her perfume still lingering in the air. 

“Does your mother always leave you with strangers or am I just the lucky exception?” Tony asks the baby, still wondering how this could have happened. But speaking of the baby, he takes another look at it – no, him, a baby boy. He’s still sleeping, dressed in a red and blue onesie with PETER embroidered on the chest. A single, dark curl rests on his forehead.

Here’s the deal: Tony likes kids. Rhodey says it’s because he’s just a slightly taller kid himself, and the genius can’t really disagree. Kids always laugh about his – child friendly, of course – jokes, they’re easily excitable, they always look at his inventions with big eyes, and ask if it can fly or change color instead of how much it costs or if it’s going to be profitable. But babies? They have no personality yet, they just look at you with big eyes, drool, sleep, and try to put everything in their mouths that fits into their small hands.

Accepting his defeat – and realizing that a headline about Tony Stark abandoning a baby is just as bad as one about him stealing a baby – he flops down on the couch, and closes his eyes for a second. “Please, do me a favor and wait for a diaper change until your Mommy is back, okay?”

To his surprise and horror, there’s a reply. Not one with words, but soft, distressed noises. Tony instantly freezes, praying that his ears are just playing a trick on him. But they aren’t. Instead, the noises are getting louder. A bit hesitant, the man leans forward to look inside the car seat again. Big, impossibly big eyes are staring back at him, the small face scrunched up in displeasure. There are no teeth in his mouth, and Tony tries to guess his age, but fails completely. Maybe a few months? A year? He has no clue.

The boy – Peter, Tony assumes, unless Mary Parker stole the onesie from some other baby – stares at him for a second, probably trying to figure out if his mother suddenly grew a beard and cut her hair. His eyes start to water up, and Tony decides to do something. “Hey, kiddo. Mommy will be right back, okay? No need to panic.”

Peter isn’t listening to him. His eyes move on from Tony’s face to whatever else he sees from the hallway. His distressed noises are getting louder, and he starts to shakes his tiny fists a bit. Tony feels the panic rising up in his chest, and turns the car seat to face him. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. No need to cry.” Peter keeps ignoring him, and a terrible feeling settles in Tony’s stomach. “You don’t need a new diaper, right? _Please_ tell me you don’t need one. Like, I give you a million dollars if you just wait with that until your mom comes back.” Apparently, a million dollars isn’t appealing enough for Peter, because he’s getting closer and closer to actually crying.

Begrudgingly, Tony leans forward, trying to sniff if the boy is in need of a new diaper. To his immense relief, there’s only a clean, crisp smell, but before he can move away, something grabs his nose. It takes Tony a second to realize that it’s Peter’s tiny fist, holding his nose with a surprisingly strong hold, before Tony can slip out of it. Peter stares at him with wide eyes, his fist still raised. At least he’s stopped crying.

“You know that’s just a joke, right?” Tony explains. “You don’t actually have my nose now. It’s just a silly trick adults made up to tease rascals like you. See? It’s still right here.” He taps his nose twice and Peter gives him a short laugh, one that somehow lights up his entire face. Well, shit. If that isn’t one of the cutest things Tony has ever seen.

But then, Peter pulls his non-existing eyebrows together, the smile slipping from his face, and he starts making a grabbing motion towards Tony. “What? You can’t have my nose again.” Peter doesn’t want his nose. Instead, he starts pulling at the strings of the car seat, his face the embodiment of discontent. “You want out, huh? Have to say, can’t really blame you. This doesn’t look too comfy.”

Weirdly enough, Tony doesn’t really think about it a lot before he unbuckles Peter and picks him up – _then_ he starts to think. Is he supposed to support his head? That’s a thing with babies, right? When do you have to stop supporting the head? And is Peter already at this age? Apparently, he is, because after a quick, surprised expression, like he can’t believe he actually got out the seat, Peter gives an excited squeal, and Tony settles him on his knee, making sure to hold his tiny body with both hands. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

The boy laughs again and makes the grabbing motions at Tony, who in turn starts to bounce his leg a bit, getting another squeal. Tony can’t help but smile at that. Somehow, even though he will never admit it, he feels connected to this child. Which is a really weird thing to say about a strange baby and will probably get him in a lot of trouble, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Peter, on the other hand, isn’t on board with that. He gets bored of the bouncing and starts to lean forward, continuing to trying to grab Tony’s face, and eventually starting to fuss. “What’s up, buddy? You don’t like the bouncing anymore?” Once he starts to speak, Peter stops the fuss, only to continue once Tony is silence for longer than two seconds. The billionaire blinks at the child. “What? You like it when I talk?” As if he actually understands his words, Peter squeals again, almost clapping his hands together.

A warm feeling blooms in Tony’s chest. If Peter’s mother doesn’t turn up soon, he might actually kidnap this child. “I think you’re actually the first person ever who doesn’t tell me to shut up.” Peter keeps on smiling, two fingers inside his mouth now, which should be gross, but is strangely adorable. “Alright. I can keep talking. No problem, I do it all the time. What do you want to hear about?”

Peter makes a gargling sound which is probably his version of an answer. Or maybe his fingers are just in the way of his words. However, Tony halts to think about it. What can he tell the kid? He could recite his speech again, but he isn’t so sure if his mother would appreciate him telling her son about a weapon.

What about a song? Kids love those, and Tony is pretty sure Peter wouldn’t mind his crappy singing voice. Which brings him to his next problem. Tony doesn’t know any songs for kids. But Peter is getting impatient by his silence, Tony can see it in the way he wrinkles his nose. Well, time to improvise. To a melody that roughly matches Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Tony starts to softly sing: “Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium –“

The elements don’t match up to the melody at all, but Peter doesn’t seem like he cares. Quite the opposite, actually. By the time Tony reaches Oganesson, the baby boy is actually clapping along – in a very bad rhythm, which is pretty appropriated.

“You liked that?” Tony asks, not even noticing the smile that is basically engraved into his face by this point. Peter squeals again, leaning forward and falling against Tony’s torso. At some point – Tony thinks it was when he sang about molybdenum – he’d pulled the boy closer to his body, almost unconsciously. The warm weight against him pulls at his heartstrings.

“Y’know what, buddy? How about you come work for me? I could definitely need someone who _likes_ hearing me talk.” Peter just looks at him with his big eyes and the toothless grin. “You’re a bit young to start working, though. Could be trouble with the legal department. Well, we’ll just call it an internship. No problem then.” The fingers are back in Peter’s mouth now, and drool drops on Tony’s shirt. Weirdly enough, Tony isn’t grossed out about it. Okay, maybe a little bit, but not as much as he thought he would.

“Maybe we should wait until you can walk on your own, though, what do you think?” Peter gargles, more drool dripping on him. “Yeah, you’re right, no need for that. I have some robots, I’ll just build you a little carriage, and they can pull you around.”

The boy starts to laugh, but then the doors from the elevators open with a soft ringing noise, drawing their attention to them. The second a little less frantic looking Mary Parker steps out of them, Peter starts squealing in delight, trying to get to his mother, and Tony needs to actually readjust his grip so the baby doesn’t faceplants on the floor.

“Hi Petey, did you wake up?” Mary asks as she lifts Peter out of Tony’s hands. Immediately, Tony notices the loss of the comforting weight and warmth, but he doesn’t say anything. Kidnapping babies is bad. Pepper wouldn’t like it. And it’s not his baby. Just because Peter likes listening to his voice and his bad song about elements, doesn’t mean he has any claim to him. The boy will most likely forget him by the time he takes another nap.

(Tony pushes the stinging pain that comes with the thought out of his mind.)

“Were you a good boy for Mr. Stark?” Mary continues to asks and drops a kiss on Peter’s head.

“He was no problem,” Tony answers, because Peter is preoccupied with looking at his mom and pointing to her hair. “The second you left, he woke up and we got to chat for a bit.”

“I really can’t thank you enough,” she says sincerely.

“It wasn’t any trouble at all.” Because it really wasn’t, which Tony wouldn’t have thought possible fifteen minutes ago. Somehow, it makes him a little sadder than he likes to admit. He sniffs once and moves to the elevator, an obvious hint that he’s going to leave. “He’s a sweet boy. And, y’know, if you’re ever in Malibu and need a babysitter, ring me up. I’m not quite sure if I’m in the address book, but someone is always at the Stark Industries Headquarters.”

Mary laughs. “Thanks, I’ll think about it.” She looks to Peter, who has been very interested in the collar of her blazer for the last minute. “Petey, do you want to say goodbye to the nice man?”

Peter looks to his mom and then at Tony, making him wonder if he actually understands words already or if it’s just his intuition. A smile spreads across his little face, and he starts smacking his lips in a weird way, leaning forward and reaching a hand out to Tony. Almost instinctively, Tony moves back to him, holding a hand out as if to catch him, but Peter just grabs his finger with a strong grip. “What are you doing, kiddo?” he asks quietly as Peter continues to smack his lips, absolutely delighted with himself.

“He’s trying to give you kisses,” Mary explains, a soft smile on his face. “Isn’t that right, Petey? Didn’t Aunty May teach you how to give kisses?” At the name of his aunt, Peter squeals again, looking around the hall as if she might pop up from behind one of the potted plants.

For a second, Tony hesitated. This is a stranger’s baby. He has spent a total of seven minutes with him. And yet he can’t help himself. Tony leans forward, presenting his cheek to the baby, and not a second later, he feels a very, very sloppy and wet kiss – if you can even call it a kiss – against his skin. “Well, you should tell your Aunty May that you need more teaching. There should be a lot less drool.” Peter simply laughs, letting go of his hand in order to get a hold of his mother again.

Before Tony can do something stupid that Pepper would definitely scold him for, he steps into the elevator. “Oh, I kinda offered him an internship at SI, so if his first words are Stark Industries, don’t be too disappointed.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Mary chuckles. “C’mon, Peter, say bye Mr. Stark!” Peter doesn’t say bye Mr. Stark, but when his mother starts to wave her hand, he kind of imitates the motion, smiling brightly like he’s having the time of his life. Tony waves back as the doors close right in front of him.

Pepper thinks he’s crazy when he tells her to put out a notice to immediately accept a Peter Parker, should he ever apply to SI. After all, he did promise him a position. But to be honest, Tony doesn’t really think it would ever happen, and over the years, he kind of forgets about it.

Until one and half decades later, he sees a video of a boy in a red and blue onesie catch a bus with his bare hands.

* * *

Tony is in dire need of a distraction from the absolute mess that is his life right now. What happened in Sokovia still haunts his nightmares and daydreams, he hasn’t seen or talked to Pepper in twelve days, seven hours, and forty-two minutes (but who is counting?), his presentation for the September Foundation at MIT needs a lot of polishing (maybe he should actually start writing that speech), the other Avengers are preparing for a mission in Lagos, Happy is accompanying Pepper at the moment, and Rhodey is visiting troops in Syria. There is the urge to grab the next best bottle of scotch and just drink and forget, but he knows that it’ll just make things worse.

And, luckily, he has something else to distract him now.

“FRIDAY, pull up everything we have from the little spiderling,” Tony orders as he enters his workshop. At once, the room is tinted in the familiar blue hue from the holo-screens, displaying everything he has gathered about Queens’ own vigilante.

Ever since the Avengers became more or less official, Tony always keeps his eyes peeled for new recruits. This one is one of the more promising ones – no, scratch that, he’s the most promising one. The videos on YouTube impressed Tony, but then he got hold of the webbing, and he was blown away. Tony doesn’t know if the spiderling manufactured them himself or if he is working with someone else, but they are ingenious. Before Tony even knew what he was doing, he already designed a suit for him (because his really reminded Tony of a onesie a baby would wear) and had ideas for over 200 web modifications.

The only thing left to do was finding out who is under the mask. Tony knows whoever it is must be young, maybe a college student. “ _Boss, I was able to identify the vigilante_ ,” FRIDAYS says as the billionaire settles on a chair, spinning the hologram of the suit while walking by.

“Good girl. Well, don’t keep me waiting. Who is it?”

At his command, the holo-screen in front of him flickers to live, showing a copy of an ID of a Peter Parker. He looks a bit spooked in the photo, his hair standing up in a tousled way, and his eyes almost comically wide. But that’s not what Tony is focused on. “Fourteen?!”

“ _It appears that he is indeed fourteen, Boss. He’s turning fifteen on August 10th_.”

“Shit.” He slumps down at his chair, eyes glued to the screen. Tony knew that the vigilante must be young, but that young? He is a child. An actual, legal child. And he is fighting crime as his extra curriculum, probably just after doing his homework and taking a nap. “Why on earth would any fourteen-year-old dress up in a onesie and catch busses with his hands?”

_“That seems to be a question you should be asking him.”_

“Yeah, thanks for the suggestion.” He can’t look away from the ID. Peter Parker. That names tickles something inside his brain, but he can’t put his finger on it. “Peter Parker … Why does that name sound so familiar?”

_“Would you like me to search our archives for his name?”_

Tony doubts that anything will pop up, after all the kid is fourteen, but he nods anyways. “Sure, go wild.” Surprising, something does pop up. An order from Tony himself to immediately accept a Peter Parker for any position if he applied. It’s dated back almost fourteen years ago. “FRIDAY, what is this?”

“ _It is an memo that_ –“

“Yeah, I can read that but what –“ He remembers. Remembers the small baby he’d looked after for seven minutes while his mother was looking for her thesis. He remembers the song he’d made up, remembers offering him a position because he liked listening to his voice. The drool, the very messy kiss on his cheek, the joy on the kid’s face. He remembers everything. 

Somehow, this feels like a punch in the face. Like, a hard one. One that would knock out at least three of his teeth.

“Check for his parents, will you?” Tony says, desperate to prove that this fourteen-almost-fifteen-year-old Peter Parker isn’t the baby Peter Parker.

The next few seconds feel agonizingly long, but then two other profiles join Peter’s ID on the screen. Richard Parker and … Mary Parker. Tony feels bile climbing up his gullet, but then he keeps reading and freezes. “They’re dead?”

_“According to several news articles, they died in a plane crash nine years ago.”_ Peter must have been around six when that happened. Despite his efforts to not picture it, Tony sees a tiny version of Peter standing in a church in front of two caskets.

“Who is he living with now?”

_“He’s registered to an apartment in Queens that he seems to share with a Ben and May Parker.”_ Tony remembers Aunty May and the sloppy kisses, but FRIDAY just keeps adding to his misery. _“However, I did find police reports about a Ben Parker dying due to a gun shot wound about five months ago.”_

Tony wants to tear out every single hair on his head. This can’t be right. It simply cannot be. There has to be a mistake. How could that little bundle of joy that he’d held in his arms experience so much tragedy and pain? And after all of that, how can he still don that self-made costume and stop bad things from happening?

He can’t involve Peter with the Avengers, he decides it in that moment. Peter has been through enough, he doesn’t need all the shit and responsibility and blame and guilt that comes with the job, no matter the sheer unbelievable amount of potential. No, Tony would make sure that he stays as far away as possible from it.

* * *

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!” Peter gives him a blinding smile, like handing him a screw driver is some kind of mammoth task.

For a second, Tony forgets. And that’s a second too long. “Y’know, your smile was way cuter when you had no teeth.” Peter blinks in confusion and Tony freezes. Shit. The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. For months, he’d been keeping quite about looking after baby Peter, and now he spilled the beans in the least dramatic way possible. How very un-Tony Stark like.

“What do you mean?” Peter just asks.

Well, he might as well come clean now. Tony sniffs once and tries to look as nonchalant as possible, keeping his eyes on the tech in front of him. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I babysat you when you were, like, six months or so? Younger than a year for sure?”

There is a chattering crash from where the screw driver hit the floor. “You what?!”

“I babysat you. For seven minutes, give or take. By the way, did your mother always leave you with strangers? Or was I just the lucky exception?”

Peter’s mouth isn’t closing, and Tony thinks it won’t for the foreseeable future. Tony tries to play it cool and not stare too much, but that’s pretty much impossible. “I-I … don’t even know what to say. Like, is this a prank?”

“Why would it be prank?”

“Because Tony Stark babysat me sounds like a joke to me!” Finally, he closes his mouth, but instead his head turns a bright red color.

“No, I really did. I was on a conference and ran into your Mom. She needed to grab some papers and asked me to look after me. Which, y’know, not really a good move, but turned out alright, don’t you think?”

Obviously, Peter doesn’t think so. “Did I do something embarrassing?”

Tony can’t help but laugh at that. “You were a baby! Of course, you did something embarrassing.”

“This can’t be happening.” Peter looks to the ground, like he begs it to open up and swallow him whole. It doesn’t happen.

“C’mon, we had a blast! Even though you drooled. Like, a lot. There were quite a few stains on my shirt. And you tried to steal my nose, I sang you a song about the periodic table, you gave me a kiss as a good bye, I offered you a job at SI. There’s an actual memo on record that you should be accepted if you ever applied.” FRIDAY, being the loyal AI she is, pulls up the memo as evidence.

Peter’s face turns from red to white to ashen and back to a dark red, so bright it’s as flashy as his suit. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Tony rolls his eyes in mock-annoyance, but truth to be told it’s quite endearing. “If you keep this up, I might start feeling a little bit hurt. Doesn’t it feel kinda full circle? Like fate?” Luckily for Tony, Peter is too caught up in his own mind to properly pay attention to the word fate. It’s a word that spooked around in Tony’s head for quite a while, but he’s never said it out loud, afraid that it’s too corny.

Suddenly, Peter starts to vigorously shake his head. “Nope. I’m not gonna accept this. It’s a joke. You’re just messing with me. That’s it. You’ve never met me before you entered my apartment and talked me into flying to Germany. I’m not believing any of this until I have some solid video evidence or something.”

Tony starts to smirk and Peters groans, realizing his mistake. “Is that all you need? FRIDAY, dear, let’s see if we can get hold of a certain security tape.”


	24. Harley and Peter meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irondadbingo Cliches: Harley and Peter meet

If Tony ever invents time travel, this is the moment he needs to change.

He is working on the nanobots for the Iron Man suit, soldering irons in both hands, desperately trying to not blow up the entire building by making the smallest mistake. Peter is next to him, watching with big eyes, a fire distinguisher in hand because he’s on fire duty, occasionally asking a whispered question, not wanting to distract Tony.

And he isn’t distracting him. Something else is, though.

“Uh, Mr. Stark, I think someone is trying to reach you,” Peter says after Tony’s phone almost falls from the workbench because it’s vibrating so much.

Tony doesn’t take his eyes off the bots. “Yeah, I know. Keener is bothering me for days now.”

“Keener?”

“Yeah, Harley Kenner. Did I never mention him?” Out of the corners of his eyes, Tony sees Peter shake his head. “A kid I met in Tennessee, back when the Mandarin thing was happening. Kinda broke into his garage, and he threatened me with a potato gun. We keep in touch.”

For a moment, Peter is uncharacteristically quiet. The only noise is the buzzing of Tony’s phone. “Maybe you should answer it? It could be important.”

Tony snorts, giving three quarters of his attention to an especially stubborn nanobot. “It’s not. He wants me to help him with something totally ridiculous for his school fair.” The buzzing stops for a second only to start again a moment later, making Tony jump a bit. He sighs, almost pinching his nose before he remembers the soldering irons in his hands. He nearly blew up half of Manhattan. “Kid, do me a favor and tell him that I really can’t talk right now.”

Peter blinks. “I- you want me to talk to him?”

“Well, you don’t have to call him, if you don’t want to. I know you teenagers hate that. Just send him a text or something. Please. For a change, I really don’t want anything to blow up today.”

The boy seems to consider it a moment, before reaching for Tony’s phone, almost shy. But the billionaire’s attention is already back on the nanobots. He doesn’t notice that Peter doesn’t return to his side, but stays at the workbench his phone laid on. He doesn’t notice that almost an hour passes instead of a few minutes. An hour, in which Peter doesn’t ask any questions or makes any comments.

Later, when the nanobots are finally stable enough to not collapse after a few minutes, and Tony turns around to suggest ordering some food, he doesn’t ponder over Peter’s good mood or why Harley suddenly doesn’t need his help anymore.

So, he is completely unprepared for when it happens.

* * *

“Did you help Harley figure out the problem for his project?” are the first words out of Tony’s mouth when Peter enters the lab a few days later.

Peter blinks a few times, sliding his – new – backpack off his shoulders. “Yeah, I did.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Awesome. Y’know, his mother just talked my ear off for half an hour because the school called her. Apparently, his project was labeled as a safety hazard for the guests of the fair.”

“You talk to his mother?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do. If you’re a middle-aged man and start talking to a young boy, you better explain it to the parent first. And I really don’t like it when she’s mad at me. Her screaming at me is just as bad as May screaming at me.” The corners of Peter’s mouth twitch upwards. The little rascal still thinks it was absolutely hilarious how his aunt almost gave Iron Man a run for his money. It wasn’t so funny when it happened, and Peter looked like he could _literally die_ from all the embarrassment. But now, after Tony and May actually started getting along, it’s something Peter likes to tease him about. “Why did you help him build it?”

“I didn’t really help him _build_ it,” he says, and rolls his eyes. For a second, Tony is very much reminded of Harley Keener. He’s pretty sure that that isn’t a good thing. “I just helped him with the part he was stuck with. It was basically nothing. I mean, did you see his idea?”

“Yes, I did, that’s why I kept ignoring him until I knew a way to make that robot not lethal.”

“It isn’t lethal-“

“They called a SWAT team and a specialist to disassemble it.”

“They overreacted! Here, if you watch the video, you see-“ Peter moves to fishes his phone out of his pocket, but Tony holds up a hand.

“Hold on, wait a minute. You have a video of it?”

Peter nods. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because he sent it to me?” The unsaid _duh_ is very loud.

“Why do you even have his number?”

“I got it from your phone. We got along fine, and then just kept texting.” To prove it, he shows the screen of his phone, displaying the chat between Peter and Harley that mostly exists out of silly pictures and vine references.

Tony can only stare at it while the realization settles in. He made a horrible mistake. Blowing up Manhattan would’ve been so much better.

* * *

Tony is sitting next to Peter’s bed, his fingers moving across the StarkPad, when his phone rings. Glancing at the boy and making sure that the sudden sound hadn’t disturbed him, Tony looks at the screen and only hesitates for a moment before answering the call. “Harley, it’s a bad time right-“

“Tell me he’s okay.” Harley sounds panicky, almost desperate.

Tony decides to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, old man, you know what I mean. Peter is fine, right? The explosion didn’t, like, …” He doesn’t end his sentence. Maybe because he doesn’t want to say it, or maybe because he doesn’t know what he wants to say.

Of course, Tony knows what Harley is talking about. His eyes are still trained on Peter, watching the slow, rhythmic way his chest rises and falls again, indicating that he’s still alive. “He told you that he’s Spider-Man?” There was a bomb in Queens. Spider-Man helped to get everyone out of the building before it went off. Thanks to live TV, the entire country saw Spider-Man being tossed through the air by the force of the explosion, crashing into the next building, the brick wall splintering on impact. Tony came just in time to catch the unconscious boy before he could hit the pavement.

Harley makes a sound, something between a snort and a watery sigh. “Didn’t had to. It’s not exactly very difficult to connect the dots, y’know? Iron Man takes Spider-Man under his wing, and Tony Stark suddenly gets a personal intern. Besides, I recognized his voice. Even here in Tennessee, we know about Spider-Man.”

Sometimes, because of the distance and because he doesn’t see Harley turn into the man he will be with his own eyes, Tony forgets how smart he is. Reckless, always ready to fight, way too snarky, and smart. Maybe that’s why the two boys get along.

“Tony?” Harley pulls him out of his thoughts. “Peter is fine, right? Tell me he’s okay.”

“He’ll be okay.” On the other end of the line, Harley exhales deeply. “All he needs is a couple hours of sleep, a mountain of food, and a stern telling-off to not jump into explosions anymore, and he’ll be as good as new.”

“He’ll better be,” the boy mutters. “He still hasn’t told me how he got his powers, and I thought that-“

“Don’t you even dare to finish that sentence, Keener. You’re not messing around with radioactive spiders, you hear me?”

“Radioactive spiders? Good to know.”

* * *

Peter snorts and his thumbs fly over his phone, typing away an answer. Tony glances at him, before looking back at the street. They’re on their way to the compound after Tony picked him up from school, but Peter’s attention is divided, which is very new. Normally, he talks Tony’s ear off, telling him everything about his day, starting from the minute he woke up and ending with when he jumped into his car. But today, Tony only got the shortened version of Peter’s day.

The worst thing is that Tony knows who Peter is texting.

“Don’t you think Ned will get jealous?” Tony asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Hm?” Peter sends another text, before looking at his mentor. “What do you mean?”

“Or do you just text Harley when you’re around me?”

“Oh no, Ned and Harley are friends. We have a group chat!”

Tony is pretty sure that this is the beginning of the apocalypse. “A group chat?”

“Yeah! Harley facetimed me when Ned and I were rebuilding the Lego Death Star, and things just happened.” Peter shrugs, eyes back on the phone. Harley just sent a picture of a cat with a caption that Tony can’t read without taking his eyes off the road. “We already made plans to share a crappy apartment when we’re all at MIT.”

“Why a crappy apartment?” Tony makes a mental note to donate an absurd amount of money to MIT in advance. They’ll need it when those three get in there.

“’cause there are no dorm rooms for three people, and it’s an authentic college experience, isn’t it? Trying to balance studying for your finals while working a job to finance your way too tiny apartment and living of cold pizza?”

Tony can’t understand why Peter is so enthusiastic about this. It sounds like a nightmare. “You know I could just buy each one of you a very nice apartment, right? Or an entire house.”

“And ruin our college experience?” Tony wonders when exactly Peter stopped his stuttering whenever he tries to give him something, and started to snark back at him. He knows this is Harley’s influence, just like he knows that Harley’s sudden willingness to not just build stuff that blows up is Peter’s influence. However, before he can say anything, the boy is already talking again: “Besides, it’ll be great for our biographies. We can write stuff like, _while we barely had any room or time to sleep, we tinkered with the first prototypes for our company_. It’s sentimental and shows that we’re down to earth. People love that. It was Ned’s idea, and his mom is a marketing expert, so he clearly knows a lot.”

The billionaire raises a skeptical eyebrow, choosing to ignore the marketing expert comment. “Your company?”

Peter looks away from his phone long enough to give Tony a blinding smile. “Yeah! Ned, Harley, and I gonna have our own company, and then we can build all the fun stuff we want! We want to start with the perfect sandwich maker!”

“Sounds great, kiddo.” Tony drops the topic, but makes serious plans to offer all three of them a job at SI as soon as possible before they can actually start their own company and kick Stark Industries out of the competition.

* * *

“You should totally buy me my own jet, so something like this isn’t happening again.”

Tony snorts. “Where are you going to store that jet? I’ve seen your garage. It’s not big enough.”

“I can build a bigger one,” Harley says with a shrug, his leg bouncing up and down, making the entire car wobble. “And there’re enough fields around our house for take-off and landing.”

“Your flight was delayed for half an hour, not days. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Really? _You_ ’re telling me not to be dramatic?” Tony rolls his eyes, and ignores both Harley’s sharp grin and the fond feeling in his chest. Somehow, Harley has talked Tony into letting him come to New York for a visit. He is pretty sure that Harley only wants to visit because of Peter, but Tony said yes regardless. Besides, it’s been quite a while since he last saw Harley in person.

And because it’s Harley, and Harley likes to mess with people, Peter doesn’t know that he’s in New York. Now, they both sit in Tony’s most subtle Audi in front of Peter’s school, waiting for Peter to leave the building. His Decathlon meeting ended a few minutes ago, but there’s still no trace of him.

“What’s taking him so long?” Harley asks, almost vibrating with too much energy. He’s been like this since Tony picked him up from the airport.

“Relax,” Tony tries to calm him down, his own eyes also fixed on the doors. “He’ll be out soon enough, and then you can… whatever it is you do. What do teenagers do these days when they see each other? I mean, how do you use all those silly photos and emojis in a verbal conversation?”

“Did anyone already tell you that you’re not funny? You seriously need to step up your game if you want to keep your teenage audience.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m hilarious. And up to date with you kids.”

“Sure, whatever lets you sleep at night.” Before Tony gets a chance for a good comeback, the doors open and three teenagers walk out. At once, Harley jumps out of the car. There is a tiny smile on Tony’s face as he follows him, but if anyone asks, he’ll say this entire thing annoys him to no end.

Peter – despite having not only five enhanced senses and one to specifically warn him of danger – is so engrossed in the conversation he has with the girl next to him, that he doesn’t notice Harley until he barrels into him, almost knocking him off his feet. For a second, Peter looks totally bewildered until he recognizes the person who is almost crushing him, and crushes him back. Tony can’t help but think of brothers who haven’t seen each other for way too long.

When he is close enough to hear their excited babbling, he gives Ned and the girl a short nod. He assumes that the girl is MJ, knowing her from Peter’s endless narrations. MJ stares back, totally unimpressed, not moving a single muscle in her face. Somehow, she reminds Tony of Pepper (who has a very similar I’m-not-impressed-with-you-look), but with more of a conspiracy theory vibe.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asks eventually as he let go of Harley, who gives Ned a quick hug.

“Oh, I just felt like having pizza from New York. What do you think I’m doing here? Surprising you, of course! And being your cheerleader for the big competition Sunday.” The grin on his face almost splits Peter’s face, and Harley turns to MJ. “You must be Michelle. Heard a lot about you. I’m Harley.”

While Peter’s face turns red and Ned suppresses a snicker, MJ gives Harley a once over; takes in his tousled and slightly too long sandy-blond hair, the plaid shirt, and the southern charm he effortlessly oozes. She continues to look very much unimpressed. “Are you the reason why Peter keeps texting instead of paying attention at practice?”

“Uh … probably?”

Her eyes turn into slits. “Are you also the reason why Peter starts talking back to Flash?”

“Hey, wait a second, I-I-I’m not talking back, I just-“

Peter is ignored. Harley keeps grinning. “Well, I sure hope so.”

A muscle in MJ’s cheek twitches, maybe indicating a smile. “You can call me MJ.” Then, she turns to Ned and Peter. “I gotta go. See you on Sunday, dorks.” Ned and Peter both say their goodbyes (though Peter’s is a lot more stuttering than actual words), and when she passes Tony, she gives him a cool _Mr. Stark_ before walking past him.

As soon as she turned around the corner, Harley lightly punches Peter’s shoulder. “ _Dude_. You’ve got my blessing.”

“I don’t need your blessing,” Peter mumbles, face still bright red, but there’s also a smile.

“Not that I not enjoy spending an excessive amount of time in a school parking lot,” Tony says, because the boys make no indication of moving any time soon, “but maybe we can move this to a more private setting before the paparazzi find us?”

“I actually know a pretty good pizza place around here. If you still want New York’s pizza,” Peter suggests. Tony knows him well enough to know that he’s already hungry again. Being a teenage boy and having a quick metabolism pretty much means that he’s always hungry. The amount of food Tony has stores all over the Tower, the compound and even his cars is obscene.

They try to convince Ned to tag along, but it’s his uncle’s birthday and he has to go, before they get back into the car. Peter and Harley don’t stop speaking, not even to take a breath, and Tony barely gets a word in – not that he understands everything they say. He always thought that Peter on his own uses a lot of pop culture references, but both of them together? Tony feels like he needs an interpreter. However, as he drives through the streets of Queens, listening to their happy ramblings and short bursts of laughter, Tony can’t help but feel happy that they’re friends, a sappy smile on his face.

He only needs to make sure that they’ll never meet Shuri, or else the world will go down in flames.


	25. Peter vs Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Hi! How's your day going? Can you please write a drabble? You remember that one scene in Iron Man 2 where Natasha is in the boxing ring with Happy and is talking to Tony and Happy's like don't get distracted and Nat kicks his ass? And Tony's just like LAMO? Can you rewrite that with Peter instead of Natasha lol that would be fun. Thanks💙💙

“Mr. Stark, I don’t really think this is a good idea.”

“Nonsense,” Tony dismisses Peter’s worries, waving a hand through the air before pointing to the ring. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted to test your abilities.”

“Well, actually, _you’re_ the one who’s been asking about testing my abilities nonstop.”

“Unimportant details. Look, Happy is ready.” Tony ignores Peter’s snicker, and simply pushes him forward. “He’ll train with you since I’m out of commission, obviously.” He wiggles with the fingers of his arm that is in the sling due to a pulled muscle from his last mission, and winces audibly at the movement.

Peter eyes the ring doubtfully, eventually climbing in, unusual clumsy for someone who thinks of gravity as a suggestion and not a universal law of nature. Happy looks even more unhappy than usual, dressed in training clothes and boxing gloves engulfing his hands. Suddenly, Peter is very aware that the man is about a head taller than him and several times larger. “Happy, you don’t have to do this, really.”

Happy looks past Peter. “You hear that, Tony? I don’t have to do it.”

“Uh-uh, you totally have to do it,” Tony says, sitting down on a couch in the corner, “because Peter isn’t the one signing your paychecks, I am. And I say fight the kid.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Peter apologizes in advance because he feels like he has to.

Happy snorts, raising his hands. “Kid, I was a professional boxer. I may not be a superhero like you or the boss, but I can stand my ground.”

That really does nothing at all to calm Peter down. Still full of uncertainty – and with the hope that his mentor maybe calls this entire idea of testing the limits of his powers off – he turns back around to Tony. “Mr. Stark, is there really no other way we could –“

“Rule number one,” he hears Happy say behind him, “never take your-“

Happy doesn’t finish the sentence. Peter gets a split-second warning in form of the tingle in his neck before his body is moving on its own. He catches Happy’s wrist, turning it to a probably hurtful angle, and wraps his legs around his neck, using the force of his movement to bring Happy down to the mat, crashing hard. Tony is howling with laughter as Happy is struggling to get out of the hold, slamming his free hand against the mat repeatedly.

Peter has to blink a couple of times before he realizes what just happens, and releases his hold on the bodyguard. “I-I-I’m so, _so_ sorry! I didn’t mean to, but my spidey sense just, like, took over and-“

“I don’t want any excuses about your Peter Tingle,” Happy says, ignoring Peter’s stuttering that it’s not called Peter Tingle (thanks a lot May), and turning around to Tony, who’s still laughing – and not even trying to stop any time soon. “Every time, Tony! Every time you send someone in the ring with me, this happens!”

“This is only the second time it happened,” Tony counters between laughs, clapping in his hands, like he’s applauding them for an especially entertaining show.

Happy narrows his eyes at the genius. “What happened to your arm?”

Tony sobers up. “What?”

“The arm you can’t move because it’s too painful and that’s why I have to fight the kid.”

Tony looks at his supposedly injured arm, the one he’s clearly been moving around without pain at all just now. “Well, you know what they say. Laughter is the best medicine and all that.”

“Tony…” Happy growls, and Peter can’t keep the snicker in.

“Let’s not dwell on little things like is my arm really hurt or not, Happy. To be honest, you should be grateful that I’m not really hurt, I know you must’ve been worried sick about me.”

“I’m resigning.”

Tony ignores it, snapping his fingers at them. “C’mon, this is supposed to be a science experiment, we need more data. Do it again!”


	26. When Life Gives You Lemons

Tony loves spending time with Peter, he really does. The boy is literally a walking sunshine, brightening up every room he walks into with the power of a supernova, his enthusiasm for literally everything unmatched and infectious. Peter makes Tony think the world isn’t such a dark and hopeless place after all.

That being said, Tony does find out Peter’s previously charming inability to sit still for more than two seconds can be quite annoying.

They’re under quarantine, not allowed to leave their homes if not for getting groceries or going to the doctor. Seeing that May basically spends every waking moment at the hospital, helping wherever she can, Peter is staying at the tower with Tony and Pepper. Tony has been low-key excited about it, having Peter by his side for two weeks with no school or other stuff separating them. Peter has been equally excited, eyes shining brightly at the promises of their (indoor) adventures.

Now, three days later, the situation looks a bit different. Pepper, of course, doesn’t see the quarantine as a reason to lay back and relax, and almost only comes out of her office to eat or sleep. The first day, Tony and Peter spent almost all day in the lab, working on their respective suits, their spirits as high as ever.

But when the second days rolled around, Tony learned something new about Peter: when he’s bored of something, then he’s _bored_ of it. He didn’t want to spent anymore time in the lab, complaining that he already did everything he wanted to do on his suit. So, they built new Lego models, rewatched Star Wars, played some cards, tried to cook, cleaned the entire kitchen, tried to cook again (it turned out okay), and found other ways to busy themselves.

On day three, Peter wants to go outside. Which he can’t, of course. But that doesn’t stop the boy from whining about it.

“I’m bored,” he sighs, stretching the word unnecessarily long as if the situation would suddenly change just because the word last longer than eight seconds.

“Then do something,” Tony answers, not even looking up from the Iron Man gauntlet he’s working on. In the beginning, he did have sympathy for Peter and his wish to go outside. But after a couple of hours of hearing that request, even he loses some patience.

“I already did _everything_ ,” Peter whines, spinning around on his chair.

“Watch a movie.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Build Lego.”

“I have no new models.”

“Make more web fluid.”

“I made enough to last for, like, a _hundred_ years.”

At that, Tony can’t help but snort despite his starting annoyance. Thinking to himself that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, he tries a nicer approach. “What do you want to do, then?”

Of course, Tony already knows the answer. “I want to go outside.”

“Buddy, you know we can’t. That’s the entire point of a quarantine.”

“But, like, I have an enhanced healing factor!” Peter argues, suddenly full of energy as he notices that Tony finally gives him a bit more attention. “So, I’m gonna be totally fine!”

“And how do you know that? What if this virus can actually get to you?”

“It can’t!” Tony gives him a side glance, and Peter’s shoulders drop. They already had this conversation. It’s a new, unknown virus and they’re not pushing their luck by thinking Peter won’t be affected by it. Considering his Parker Luck, it’s probably worse for him. “But if I wear the suit, then it can’t get to me, right? There’s a filter in the mask and everything.”

“Unless that virus actually does stick to surfaces and the second you take off your mask, you inhale it or whatever. So, no. No Spider-Manning.”

As Tony turns back to his work, Peter groans again. “I hate being stuck inside.” Tony only hums. “I _really_ hate it.”

“Believe me, I _know_. You can always use the gym two stories down if you want to get rid of some of that energy.”

“I don’t want to use the _gym_ , I want to go outside! I think I already forget what fresh air tastes like.”

“Okay, first, don’t be dramatic, that’s my job. And second, air doesn’t have a taste.”

“Yeah, it does. You just don’t taste it because you already killed all your taste buds.”

“Excuse me?” Tony asks, turning around again.

Peter has the audacity to look absolutely unashamed. “I mean, whoever enjoys pineapple on their pizza obviously doesn’t have any working taste buds. That’s, like, common knowledge.”

Deciding that ignoring Peter in hopes of the boy finding something to do on his own is pointless, Tony puts down his tools and rolls his chair over to Peter. The boy barely moves, sprawled out on the chair, pouting like there’s no tomorrow. The side actually does pull on Tony’s heartstrings a bit. He knows how much energy the teenager normally has. Being cooped up really has to be like torture for him.

“Listen, I know you want to go outside,” Tony says as patiently as he can, “but that’s not a good idea right now, buddy. Even if you aren’t affected by that virus, you might still catch it and someone else could be infected because of it. We’re locked inside to protect all those with a weak immune system who are counting on us right now. Spider-Man is looking out for the little guy, right? This is just the same. Looking out for the little guy by staying inside. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter finally gives him, sounding the farthest thing from happy. Tony rewards him with a pat on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not easy, but we’re making the best out of it. When life gives you lemons and all that.”

“Then you ask for tequila.” Suddenly, before Tony can even fully comprehend what he just said, Peter perks up. “Oh, can I try drinking?”

“What?” Tony asks back, seriously thinking he’s hallucinating right now.

Peter sits up in his chair, his sullen mood completely forgotten. “Like, I always wanted to find out if alcohol has any effect on me because of my fast metabolism and-“

“Hold on a second,” he interrupts Peter, physically raising a hand in the air. He can’t decide if Peter is asking because he’s bored, or because he’s seriously curious, or because he just wants to mess with Tony. All three are equally realistic. “Are you seriously asking me to get _drunk_?”

“I mean… not actually drunk but-“

“You’re sixteen!”

“In other parts of the world, I would totally be allowed to drink now.”

“But we aren’t in any other parts of the world, so no. You’re not getting a drink. Jesus. Your aunt will kill me if she finds out about this.”

“Well, I won’t tell her, so if you-”

“Kid, you tell your aunt _everything_. There’s no way she’s not going to find out about it.” Shaking his head, Tony rolls back to his work bench. “Why are we even still talking about this? It’s a hard no. Not ever.”

Peter’s shoes squeak on the floor of the lab as he rolls his chair next to Tony’s. “Okay, but what would you prefer? That I get absolutely shitfaced when-“

“Watch your language.”

“-I go to college and to a party, or that I find out about my tolerance here with you in a safe environment, knowing you will look after me?”

Tony is pretty sure that Peter doesn’t actually want to get drunk and is just looking for a distraction, but another part of Tony can’t help but seriously consider his words. Because he remembers his first college party with booze. Okay, no, he doesn’t actually remember the party itself, thanks to the amounts of alcohol he drank, but he vividly remembers the morning after. He remembers all the mistakes from his drunken escapades. Isn’t the better alternative to teach him about responsible drinking somewhere safe without all the peer pressure around him?

But then, Tony remembers three things: May would kill him. Tony actually doesn’t want to see Peter drunk yet. Peter is sixteen!

Absolutely sure of his decision, Tony shakes his head, turning back to his work. “Nope. We’re not doing it. Not a chance. And don’t even try to open the bar, it’s locked and FRIDAY is a tattletale.”

“Fine,” Peter sighs, pouting as if the billionaire just took away his favorite toy. The silence lasts for four seconds. “Hey, Mr. Stark, did we hoard enough toilet paper?”

Tony sighs, pinching the bridge his nose, reminding himself that he’s been the one inviting Peter over. Then, he remembers that there are at least eleven more days before the teenager is allowed to go outside again. That suddenly seems like a very long time. “I need a drink.”

“When you get one, can I get one, too?”

All of the sudden, Tony isn’t quite sure if he’s going to survive this.


	27. Pepper to the rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> I love how you write Pepper! Can I get a Pepper and Peter story? Maybe Peter shadowing her for a day, or #Protective Pepper making an apperance

Peter is very aware of the fact that he’s annoying everyone else in the room with his non-stop bouncing leg and cracking his knuckles again and again, but he can’t help himself, he’s too nervous to stop. Principal Morita sits behind his desk, trying his best to look calm and patient, and he’s somewhat succeeding at it. Brendan Weaver, Peter’s class mate, sits on the chair to Peter’s left, three feet between them. He’s known for having a big mouth, loving nothing more than talking back to literally anyone, but ever since his mother arrived, he’s been uncharacteristically quiet.

Mrs. Weaver, however, is the complete opposite of quiet. “I don’t have all day for this,” she says in an icy tone, tapping her long, manicured fingernails against her arm rest. “Some of us have jobs we need to get back to.”

“Peter’s guardian will be here any minute,” Principal Morita tries to sooth her, as Peter pulls his eyebrows together. Nobody told him who exactly is coming for him. He knows it can’t be May, knowing that she’s assisting in a big surgery today. Which only leaves Tony, because he’s his other emergency contact.

God, Tony would make this so much worse, Peter can already see it. He and Mrs. Weaver will most likely start throwing the chairs at each other or he will call his Iron Man suit or threaten to financially ruin their family. Peter loves Tony, he really does, but the man really doesn’t know the meaning of the word subtle or uncomplicated.

However, when the door to the office opens, it’s not Tony who struts inside, commanding every bit of attention in the room – it’s Pepper, dressed sharply and very professional in a dark grey business costume and dangerous looking stiletto heels. “Good afternoon,” she says, a small, polite smile on her lips. “I apologize for my delay, but I was in a meeting when you called.”

“Of course, Miss Potts,” Principal Morita says as he shakes Pepper’s hand, trying to blink his confusion away. Peter, on the other hand, stared at her openly, his brain not yet connecting the dots why she is here. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you. We called-“

“Tony, yes. But the UN needs Iron Man’s help in Turkmenistan today, so I stepped up. I hope that is alright,” she explains, and squeezes Peter’s shoulder as she takes a seat next to him. Peter tries his best to hide the bruise that is slowly forming on his cheekbone, but Pepper spots it almost immediately, eyes darkening a little bit.

Brendan still needs to stop staring and pick up his jaw from the ground, while Mrs. Weaver seems determined to look like she isn’t impressed by Pepper’s presence here. “Can we start, then?”

“Certainly,” Principal Morita agrees and clears his throat. “You both were already informed that Brendan and Peter fought today, and we need to discuss disciplinary measures.”

“This is ridiculous,” Mrs. Weaver scoffs, waving her hand around. “It was self-defense! Everyone said that that boy-“ she points to Peter, “started it by pushing Brendan against the lockers.”

“Peter, can you tell me what happened?” Pepper asks, ignoring the fuming woman.

But before Peter can say a word, Mrs. Weaver is talking again. “We already know what happened! He pushed my son!”

“I know Peter, and Peter doesn’t go around pushing people for fun. If he really did push him, he must have had a reason, and I would like to know that reason.” Once again ignoring the protests from the other woman, Pepper turns her entire attention to Peter.

The added attention doesn’t help with his nervousness, but he feels at least a bit at ease with Pepper next to him, knowing he has at least one person on his side. Hopefully. “I did push him,” he confesses. Mrs. Weaver starts talking again, but Principal Morita silences her with a few words.

“And why did you do that?”

Peter is very aware of the daggers that are coming out of Brendan’s eyes. “Because he kept pulling and snapping Nicole’s bra strap, even though she told him to stop.”

“Nicole Cooke?” Principal Morita asks, and writes the name down after Peter confirms it with a nod.

“Peter overreacted,” Brendan says with a roll of his eyes, trying to sound as dismissive as possible. “It was a joke!”

“Nicole didn’t think it was funny,” Peter snaps back, quickly glancing over to the other boy. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t, and then I pushed him.” For a second, he thinks about apologizing for pushing Brendan, because he’s pretty sure Principal Morita will make them do it anyway and he really didn’t mean to push him as hard as he did – but at the same time, he really isn’t sorry for his actions. Brendan was being a jerk.

“Brendan had to defend himself,” Mrs. Weaver is quick to say, “and that boy clearly only understands violence.”

This is the point where Tony would’ve start threatening Mrs. Weaver in a very not-subtle way. Pepper, on the other hand, only crosses her legs. “And do you think that a punch in the face is the right reaction to being pushed?”

“Like I said, there was obviously no reasoning with the boy.”

“Based on the events, I would say it’s the other way around, since Brendan didn’t understand the word no. Or did you teach him that it’s okay to pull on other people’s undergarments in public? Which legally could be seen as sexual assault.”

Brendan pales, while Mrs. Weaver turns red. “I’m not sitting here listening to these accusations from someone who slept with her boss to get her job.”

There’s a growl, and it takes Peter a moment to realize that _he_ ’s the one growling. It takes him another moment get enough of a grip on himself to stop. By now, Tony would’ve thrown a chair across the room.

But Pepper only turns eerily quiet. There’s a small smile on her face, one that sends a shiver down Peter’s spine. The temperature suddenly drops a few degrees. “Weaver, wasn’t it? Like the real estate agency, _Weaver & Partner_?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Weaver hisses, trying to keep up the façade, but Peter can clearly hear her fast heartbeat.

Pepper doesn’t say anything else, only gives Mrs. Weaver another long look before turning to Principal Morita, who looks like he wants to have both women out of his office as fast as possible. “You both will get one week of detention,” the principal says, ignoring Mrs. Weaver’s outraged huff of protest. “I will also talk to Nicole, and based on what she tells me, I might call you back in here. Now, Brendan, Peter, I want you to apologize to each other.”

They both mumble a half-hearted apology, and then Mrs. Weaver grabs her son and storms out of the room, not saying good-bye to anyone of them. Pepper isn’t faced by it one bit – in fact, she seems quite smug. Not the Tony kind of smug that is impossible to not notice, but a more subtle kind, showing in the way she shakes Principal Morita’s hand and thanks him for calling her.

Once they are back outside and inside Pepper’s car – sleek, black Audi, which Peter is pretty sure was a gift from Tony – Pepper takes his chin in her hand and gently moves his head around to get another look at his bruise. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Peter answers truthfully, “it looks a lot worse than it feels, and it’ll be gone in a few hours. No big deal.”

Pepper curls her lip, letting Peter silently know that it’s not no big deal, but doesn’t say anything else about it. Instead, she leans back in the seat and starts her car. “God, that woman is a witch. And by witch I mean another, very similar word that starts with b.”

Peter chuckles. “Thank you for coming, Miss Potts.”

“Of course,” she says, and rewards him with a smile. “I deal with whiny businessmen all day, this wasn’t so different from my usual agenda. And you know you can stop calling me Miss Potts.”

“Well, I’ll be calling you Mrs. Stark soon, if that’s better.”

Pepper laughs as she switches to the left lane. “I’m still thinking about convincing Tony to take my name, but – between us – Tony Potts doesn’t sound as good as I imagined.” While Peter has no doubt that Tony would have absolutely no problem in changing his name to Potts, he too has to admit that the name Tony Stark is kind of too iconic to change. “Peter, I’m very proud of you for helping that girl. Not everyone would’ve done that. And if that ever happens again, I’m more than happy to have another chat with your principle.”

Heat gathers in Peter’s cheeks, and he starts to nervously pull at the sleeves of his sweater. “It was nothing. But thank you, Miss Potts.”

“So,” Pepper says, sensing that Peter doesn’t really want to talk about it and – unlike Tony – changes the topic, “Tony didn’t put all his dirty mugs from his lab into the dishwasher before he flew off, even though I reminded him a couple of times. What do you say we get some cheeseburgers, and let him know how much fun we had today?”

Peter, already hungry because of his enhanced metabolism and knowing how much Tony loves fighting with other parents at his school and making a scene, smile brightly and nods.

About an hour later, on the other side of the world in Turkmenistan, FRIDAY pulls up the photo from Pepper and Peter with cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes in front of them, both grinning like a Cheshire cat, on Tony’s HUD and plays the five-minute long voicemail with the dramatic retelling of their day.


	28. Mini-Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> I love the prompt you write for baby Peter ❤️❤️❤️ can you write something where Baby Peter keeps copying Tony??? I think that’s so cute ❤️❤️❤️

Peter is a very observing kid, much more so than any other kid. That’s Tony’s opinion, at least, but he may be a bit biased. While Peter still puts pretty much everything that isn’t screwed down into his mouth like every other kid (Tony isn’t quite sure why. Does he think Tony is lying when he says the TV remote isn’t edible?), he also starts coping everyone around them, first watching what they are doing and then doing exactly the same.

It started with eating. Whenever Tony would take a bite of his food, Peter would, too. When he took a sip from his glass, so would Peter. It took Tony an embarrassing long time to figure out what his son was doing, but at least he found a new way to get Peter to eat all of his vegetables (even though that meant Tony had to eat all of his vegetables, too).

Slowly, the habit spread through out almost everything he did. When Tony is working in the lab, Peter is right next to him, playing with his Legos, repeating the orders Tony tells FRIDAY, pretending to tell DUM-E off for something he did. When Pepper walks by while having a phone call, Peter picks up the closest object in his reach, puts it against his ear and starts babbling into it. When Happy drives them around, Peter pretends to drive, too. Once he even copied Rhodey’s _Tones_ , which Tony put a quick stop to, because he likes to stay Daddy for just a little while longer.

Tony comes back from the very important board meeting Pepper bribed him into going (by offering to be Peter’s babysitter for the day, which is how she can always get him to do anything she wants him to do, because there’s not a single person Tony trusts more to look after his son) and he’s more than ready to complain to his assistant about the very important but also very boring board meeting while holding his son in his arms – but the sight that greets him is somewhat unusual.

They’re both in the living room, Pepper sitting on the couch with one of Peter’s toy phones in her hand, reciting what sounds like a work schedules, including meetings, phone calls, and press conferences. Music is playing in the background. Peter is sitting at the coffee table, building something with his Legos Tony can’t quite make out yet, but his focus isn’t on the toy anyway. Peter looks different. He wears a black shirt (at a second glance, Tony realizes that it’s one of his usual comic shirts turned inside out), blue pants, and grey sneakers. His usual tiny glasses are replaced by his equally tiny sunglasses, and there’s face paint on his chin, looking like…

“Is that my beard?” Tony asks instead of greeting them properly. At once, both heads snap up, Pepper giving him a gentle smile and Peter jumping to his feet, screaming _Daddy_ while running over to him as fast as he can. Tony picks him up easily and blows a raspberry against his cheek, careful to avoid the face paint. “Hey, buddy. What’s going on here?”

“Peter wanted to play Mr. Stark,” Pepper explains as she walks over to them. “So, he dressed up as you and was working in his workshop, while I told him everything he should be doing. Which he, just like the original Mr. Stark, ignored.”

Tony gasps theatrically. “That doesn’t sound like me at all! Who came up with that game?”

“Me!” Peter yells excitingly.

Pepper smirks. “He had it all planned out. I guess he watched you often enough to know exactly what to do.”

“Well, I think that’s slander,” Tony says with a shrug, and before Peter can ask what slander means, he takes another look at the Legos. “What were you working on, Petey? What did you invent today while you ignored Miss Potts?”

“Flying car!” Peter answer (words still mumbled, but getting sharper and longer every day), wiggling out of Tony’s arms, so he could pick up the model, which doesn’t look too far from a flying car if you know what you’re looking for.

Tony takes it in his hands, turning it around and inspecting it, humming approvingly. “Yes, that’s indeed a flying car. Very good job, Mr. Stark.” Peter giggles again, leaning against Tony’s side.

“Seeing that you’re both in good hands,” Pepper starts, putting the toy phone down on the table, “will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“Yes, that will be-“

“No!” Peter suddenly yells, pulling at Tony’s arm and looking up to Pepper with a pout. “I’m Mr. Stark!”

“Of course, how silly of me,” Pepper is quick to say while Tony tries his best to hide his smile, grateful that JARVIS records everything. “Do you need me to do anything else, Mr. Stark?”

Peter’s eyes jump to Tony, as if to make sure that it’s really him who is allowed to answer this time. Tony gives him a tiny nod. “Dinner?”

Pepper blinks once. “Dinner?” Peter nods, suddenly shy. “You want me to make you dinner?”

“No,” he shakes his head, getting even shyer, half-hiding behind his father. “Stay?”

There’s the real difference between Tony’s version of Mr. Stark and Peter’s. Because when Tony would ask Pepper to stay for dinner, she would only roll her eyes and say goodbye, most likely thinking he was joking around (even though he wasn’t. He wants Pepper to stay for dinner and lunch and breakfast and all the time in between.). But when Peter asks her, she rewards him with a warm, honest smile. “I would love to.”

Tony isn’t sure if Peter knows what a wingman is, but he’s already the best wingman Tony ever had.

“Awesome,” Tony says, unable to contain the bubbling happiness inside him. “I hope you like dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and curly fries, Miss Potts, because we’re treating ourselves tonight. After that board meeting and inventing flying cars, we deserve it. Right, buddy?”

Peter cheers and claps in excitement, his painted beard getting smudged a little bit.


	29. Mama Pepper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> I NEED more Baby Peter!!! Maybe focusing on Pepper and Baby Peter (with Pepper and Tony being bio parents)

Pepper never really thought she was cut out to be a mother.

As a little girl, she was never as obsessed with dolls and pretending to be the mother as her friends. As a teenager, she was interested in boys and relationships, but she never dreamed about starting a family with them, the thought as abstract and confusing as those weird poems they had to read in class. In college, when all of her friends planned their careers and left empty slots for their future family life, Pepper’s plan was packed with not even a second left to breathe. A few years later, when more and more of her friends got children, Pepper politely held them and reassured everyone that their baby was indeed the most precious thing in the world, but she was always more than glad when she could give the tiny, fragile (most of the time crying) human back.

She never thought she would be a mother, and that was okay. She had other plans.

But then Tony happened.

And Tony has no regard for her plans.

From the second Pepper stormed into his office to tell him about the accounting mistake, threatening everyone in her way with the non-existing pepper spray in her purse, Tony never really left her alone. Even if he wasn’t around, Tony was always lurking at the back of her mind, mostly in the form of _I have to remind Tony about the meeting_ or _I have to clean up Tony’s publicity debacle_ – but more often than she liked to admit, it was more of a _I hope Tony actually slept in a bed this night instead of falling asleep hunched over his work bench_ or _Tony better ate some real food today and not only drank coffee_.

Tony’s non-stop flirting wasn’t helping not thinking about him either. But Pepper told herself she wouldn’t fall for his siren song, that he’s only bored and wants something to chase, that she wouldn’t just be one of the many, that this was her job, and she loves her job too much to do something so risky. However, Tony didn’t stop, and it became more and more difficult to ignore all the thoughts and feelings that took hold of her when he was around.

So, one day, she gave in to his song, preparing herself to crash against the cliffs and drown. But that didn’t happen. She wasn’t drowning, she was flying.

A year later, Pepper crashed back down to earth when she held the positive pregnancy test in her fingers. Tony proposed right on the spot which Pepper refused, as well as the other five proposals that followed, not wanting it to happen like this and afraid that he was only doing it because of the baby. A baby that had no place in the life she had mapped out for herself. She’s not cut out to be a mother, after all. But if there’s one thing Pepper Potts is exceptional at, it’s dealing with changed plans. She had years of practice thanks to Tony’s behavior.

From the second Pepper heard the first heartbeat, she knew her insecurities didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter if she never saw herself as a mother, it didn’t matter that she didn’t play with dolls or fantasized about marrying her crush and having children or planned her life around her career. Because in that moment she was more than willing to tear down all her plans for this; not a fantasy, not make-believe, but the reality.

Their son Peter.

Tony is a natural at being a father and he loves it. Pepper knows he had his doubts about his own parent abilities because of the relationship to his father, but now she can’t imagine Tony being anything else but a father. Thanks to years of an unhealthy sleep pattern, he has no problem with getting up every two hours in the night to look after Peter. More often than not, it’s Peter who can lure Tony out of his workshop, either because he’s crying or because Tony just misses him. He spends hours making silly faces at him, throwing him in the air, playing games with him, and so much more just so he can hear Peter laugh.

Pepper isn’t any better. Never in her life had she imagined that she could feel so much love for one person. Never had she thought she would be so happy even though she barely slept and every choice she made was for another human being. Of course, there are times where she doubts herself, doubts if she can do this when the novelty of it ebbs away, but then she would look at Peter and he would smile at her, and she decides that, for once, she’s not going to think about the future and just live in the moment.

Yeah, maybe she always wanted to be a business woman, but being a mom isn’t so bad either.

And then she realizes she can be both.

There’s a board meeting she has to go to. As Tony and she started their relationship, Pepper got promoted to a leading position that doesn’t involve work with Tony himself to keep the nasty rumors to a minimum but also because there’s no one more qualified for the job than Pepper. But Peter’s nanny called in sick today, leaving Pepper with the decision to stay home with her son. It’s not like anyone would be mad about it, they all know about Peter (thanks to Tony mailing everyone on the payroll pictures of their kid) and Tony would be there, too. He got a lot better at paying attention and telling her what happened. So, really, she can allow herself to stay home. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But then she had her epiphany. Why not take Peter? Who would stop her from going into that meeting with her almost one-year old son? They wouldn’t dare to throw her out, and the meeting is about the same time as Peter’s usual nap. He can sleep through almost anything, a few people talking wouldn’t bother him, and he wouldn’t bother anyone else. Deciding that Pepper Potts can be business woman and mother, she first dresses herself in a business costume before dressing Peter in the shirt and pants that look like a cartoonish suit, knowing Tony will love that little detail.

“Do you want to go to work with me? And say hi to Daddy?” she asks him as she puts him in his stroller. Peter only cheers, loving the stroller because that means they’re going somewhere and he loves going somewhere.

About an hour later, Pepper walks into the room that is already filled with every SI board member, head held high, pushing the stroller, a bag with everything Peter needs over one shoulder, a bag with all the documents she needs over the other. Everyone stares at her like she just grew two more heads – except for Tony, who wears one of the biggest grins she’s ever seen on his face.

“This is already the best meeting ever,” Tony says as soon as she arrives at her usual seat next to him. “Can we make this a regular thing?”

“Will it make you pay more attention?” Pepper asks back, first unpacking the documents and a pen, then picking up her son. Peter, pacifier in his mouth, is already half-asleep, only smiling when he sees his father before snuggling into Pepper’s chest and closing his eyes. She presses a quick kiss to his head, before looking up, meeting the eyes of everyone else in the room. “Shall we start, then?”

They exchange quick looks, seemingly forgetting that Pepper is more than capable of reading those looks. “Miss Potts, is that- is that your son?”

“Do you think I would just kidnap random babies to bring them here? Of course, it is my son.”

“But… why?” another one asks, sounding completely bewildered, like it’s an absolutely crazy thought to bring their kid to work.

Pepper doesn’t even shrug. “Because I want to. Now, let’s start.”

Tony snorts and brushes his thumb over Peter’s cheek, clearly not coming to the rescue of the other board members. “I wanna hold him,” he whispers as the presentation finally starts.

Pepper slaps his hand away. “No, I’ll hold him. Now, pay attention.”

Tony pouts and is silent for all but twenty seconds. “We should get a second baby, so we can both hold one during meetings.”

Despite the light tone, Pepper knows it’s a serious question. For a second, she thinks about all of her opinions on motherhood during her life, about what she thought it would be to what it’s actually like. Her eyes drift down to Peter, snoring gently against her chest. Then, she smiles. “I’ll think about it.” Pepper ignores Tony’s smile as she kisses Peter’s head again and starts taking notes.


	30. Spideychelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> I'd love a cute MJ/Peter story, something that shows just how much MJ cares for Peter in her wannabe nonchalant way

MJ doesn’t understand how she ~~is in love with~~ has a crush on Peter Parker.

Ever since she realized that she’s interested in finding a partner, she always imagined herself with someone mature, someone who knows what they are doing, who is able to look after themselves, who doesn’t rely on her to clean up their messes, who are able to function without someone else holding their hand, because MJ has way too much ambition and absolutely enormous dreams to be remembered as the supporting footnote in someone else’s story.

Teenagers, however, very rarely meet those criteria.

Which makes it even weirder that she ~~loves~~ likes Peter.

It took her a while to realize that her curiosity around him had nothing to do with the suspicion that he had a secret (that secret being Spider-Man), but with actual feelings. She always ~~admired~~ appreciated his intellect, not only because it makes him a valuable member of the Decathlon team, but because she could have very interesting conversations with him; at least, if he’s not being a dumbass in that moment. Peter oozes with the energy of an overexcited puppy, his eyes shining with joy and life when literally anything happens. Instead of being absolutely annoyed by it, MJ finds herself wondering _Should I be more excited about this thing?_ And more often than not, she does actually get more excited.

A very defining moment was when they debated over the Sokovia Accords in class, and Nico said Tony Stark overreacted. Peter exploded like a volcano. Peter I-adress-everyone-formally-and-apologize-always-and-am-overly-polite-and-maybe-that-criminal-isn’t-so-bad-but-just-having-a-bad-day Parker couldn’t be reigned in, not by any of their class mates or their teacher, as he rebutted every single one of Nico’s arguments with a (slightly aggressive) passion that couldn’t be matched. MJ couldn’t look him in the eyes for two days without feeling like someone released a swarm of butterflies in her stomach, which was a real shame considering how much she loved making people uncomfortable by holding unnecessary long eye contact.

And like every other teenager (although Peter can’t be descripted as the typical teenager), Peter still made messes. To his credit, he tried his best to clean them up, considering that they’re very different from normal teenager messes. A normal teenager might worry about keeping the new dent in their parent’s car a secret; Peter worries about keeping that stabbing wound he got from breaking up a drug ring a secret from his helicopter ~~parent~~ mentor.

But because of that, all the smaller messes kind of slip under Peter’s radar, seeing that they pretty much pale in comparison to everything else. And despite her principle that she’s not cleaning up other people messes, MJ finds herself getting Peter out of trouble before he even realizes he’s in trouble.

~*~*~

Peter is asleep.

Which would be fine if they weren’t a) in school, b) watching a movie they’re writing a test about next week, and c) supposed to take notes. MJ squints a bit as she watches Peter drool on his blank piece of paper. She could easily throw an eraser at him to wake him up.

Instead, she subtly slips her phone out of her pocket, and checks the last time he’d been online. 4:29 am. So, it’s safe to say that he probably hasn’t slept at all. She could only speculate about the reason for his insomnia, because even though they’re already dating for a few weeks now, Peter still keeps surprisingly many secrets.

Her eyes drift to her eraser. Then, MJ flips open a new page in her notebook and starts copying her notes.

~*~*~

MJ scrolls through Twitter, eyebrows pulled into a frown. The Daily Bugle decided it was Let’s-trash-Spider-Man day, retweeting their own articles about all the _trouble_ he causes, asking their followers to share their negative encounters with the local vigilante. Some angry – and obviously dumb – people jumped on the bandwagon (some of those people aren’t even from Queens, who gave them the right to butt in?), and while the hashtag #CancelSpiderMan isn’t trending, it did gain quite some traffic.

She knows that Peter is reading them, too, they’re impossible to miss. But instead of getting angry (like MJ), he will blame himself, thinking that he’s actually doing a bad job, because he thinks everything is his fault and therefor it’s his job to fix everything. Just thinking about how miserable he must feel seeing all these tweets, MJ gets even more angry. No, she won’t let that happen.

It takes her fifteen minutes to find that one article from Buzzfeed with the top 10 times Spider-Man helped the citizens of Queens, ranging from the time he stopped a school bus full of elementary kids from hurtle from the bridge to helping that one cat that’s notorious for climbing on trees and getting stuck there. She retweets it.

Peter likes her tweet within seconds. (Tony Stark is a close second.)

~*~*~

They’re playing dodge ball during PE, which is a nice change to the endless Captain America Fitness Challenges, when MJ sees the movement out of the corner of her eyes. Flash picks up a ball, grinning from ear to ear, eyes set on Peter, who has his back turned to him. MJ knows that Peter has that weird tingle in his neck that warns him of danger, but she also knows it’s not always working the way it should work.

Without really thinking twice about it, she picks up the ball closes to her and throws it at Flash, aiming at his hand holding the ball. But then, the boy moves in the last second, and the ball hits Flash right on the nose.

MJ likes to think it’s karma.

“Michelle!” Coach Wilson yells, as Flash starts to wail, holding his nose and drawing all of the attention to himself. It’s a bit dramatic, after all she’s not that good at throwing things and there isn’t even any blood.

“It was an accident,” she admits the half-truth, shrugging once. “Not my fault he moved.”

MJ holds her head high as Coach Wilson bans her onto the bleacher for the rest of the period, and ignores Peter’s questioning look that makes her skin prickle.

~*~*~

When MJ sees the flyer for the first aid class, she thinks two seconds about it before signing up, simply on the off-chance that Peter might need her help someday. Peter always reassures her that most of his injuries aren’t even that bad and that he has his enhanced healing (and Tony Stark who employed a dozen doctors to treat his wounds), but she can’t ignore the stubborn voice in her head that tells her that the day will come when she finds him bloodied and beaten up on the fire escape in front of her window.

So, she signs up for the class, double checking that it’s during Peter’s lab sessions, so he won’t even notice it, and buys a small first aid kit.

~*~*~

“He’s never gonna let me live this down,” Peter complain dramatically, burying his face in his hands.

“What’s happening?” MJ asks, slowly ~~starting to find his growing dramatic personality endearing~~ getting used to his growing dramatic personality.

“Mr. Stark and I made a bet, and he won. Now I have to make him home-made cookies.” Peter looks up to her, a ~~cute~~ pout on his face. “I can’t bake. I’m just as bad as May.”

“I can help.”

At once, Peter sits up straight, eyes shining brightly. “Really?”

MJ shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, and ignores the burning underneath her cheeks. “Sure. You can come over tomorrow.”

“Thank you!” He presses a quick kiss against her cheek that sets free another swarm of butterflies in her stomach. “I didn’t know you know how to bake.”

MJ doesn’t know how to bake. The second she’s home, she ~~freaks out and~~ calls her cousin Anne who she only sees during the holidays and who loves nothing more than baking all day long to help her out. Anne talks her through everything while video chatting with her, and then, finally, the fourth batch turns out pretty damn good.

The next day, MJ makes sure to hide the enormous amount of cookies in her apartment, and makes teasing comments about all the mistakes Peter makes (the same ones she made less than 24 hours earlier), unable to look away from Peter in the apron and with flour across his cheeks as he looks at the bowl before him like this is more complicated than the equations he can solve in his head in mere seconds.

~*~*~

So, no, Peter is not at all what she imagined when she thought about a boyfriend, and, yeah, she has to clean up some messes, despite her swearing herself that she would never do that.

But MJ also learns that you can make exceptions for someone you ~~love~~ like.

(Okay, fine, she loves him. Are you happy now?)


	31. Being observant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> “It ripped free from the bolts holding it in place, like an invisible giant had yanked it away.” (That’s the original, but I changed it a teeny tiny bit to fit.)

Peter’s spidey sense doesn’t work all of the time. It’s one of those things Tony simply can’t figure out how it works. Trying to figure that little tingle out is more frustrating than working out how Peter’s hands and feet stick to literally every surface there is even though they are covered. So, until Tony can figure out when and why the spidey sense doesn’t work, he keeps telling Peter to be more observant of his surroundings during a fight.

It’s just the universe’s twisted sense of humor that it’s now Tony who doesn’t follow that advice.

Iron Man is chasing a bunch of criminals through a construction side. They’re not really the kind the Avenger would be dealing with, more interested in causing havoc than world domination, but they got their hands on altered alien tech. Seriously, how many weapons did Toomes sell? These days, it feels like every third of these bastards has one of those weapons.

Until now they haven’t done anything worse than flying around and shooting at Tony with those guns, cackling like they’re having the time of their lives. Tony would love nothing more than fly closer and wipe those smiles off of their faces, but FRIDAY quickly reminded him that it would be very less than ideal, because based on her scans, those weapons could fry the entire suit. He doesn’t know if those two know that – he kind of hopes they’re too dumb to truly know what that is in their hands – but he’s not willing to test that theory.

Tony dodges another beam of neon-y light that flies his way. “Really?” he asks, unable to keep his frustration in. “It’s like you’re not even trying to hit me anymore.”

The guys only grin, and then Tony hears it. It’s a low jarring sound, one that immediately lets all the hairs on his neck stand up. He turns around, ignoring the criminals running away, and can only stare.

Turns out, they didn’t try to hit him. They were trying to burn through the giant metal beams behind him – and they succeeded, one of the beams only hanging on by the threats. It rips free from the rest, like an invisible giant yanked it away. And it flies directly at Tony at seemingly lightning speed.

Tony should move.

But he can’t, too paralyzed by his own stupidity, either for not figuring out those idiots’ plan or for not observing his surroundings.

The beam comes closer and closer.

FRIDAY is screaming at him.

He should _really_ move.

A zipping sound cuts through the air, and suddenly the beam is gone, flying backwards. Tony makes out a red and blue figure and white lines flying through the air, too fast for his numb brain, and then the beam sits in the air, caught in a giant spider web.

“Hey Mr. Stark!”

Peter crouches down on one of the strings of webs, way too relaxed considering that he’s balancing on something that’s only the fraction of an inch thick. Even though Peter is wearing his mask, Tony just knows the boy is grinning.

“Where do you come from?” Tony asks instead, slowly regaining the control over his body and recovering from the near heart attack he just had. The vitals on his HUD start looking somewhat normal again.

“I say some clips on the news,” Peter explains, “and those guys looked like they had some weapons I know.”

“So you figured out you could help?”

Peter shrugs. “I mean, I just saved you from getting squashed like a bug. I think I already did help.”

Tony sighs.

May would kill him if Peter gets shot by one of those weapons.

On the other hand, Tony is really pissed at those two idiots. Besides, two against two is only fair, right?

“Alright, kiddo,” Tony gives in, ignoring the smile that is pulling at his lips as he sees Peter punching the air in excitement, “you can tag along. It’ll be fun. A real bonding experience.”

“Thank you! It will be awesome!” Peter shoots a web, swinging through the air. “Oh, and Mr. Stark? You should really pay more attention to your surroundings when you’re fighting.”

“Listen here, you little-“ Tony’s protests drown in Peter’s laughter.


	32. The midnight class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> It’s from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
> 
> “Unofficially, it was called the midnight class, even though it usually commenced at around two in the morning.”

When you’re a kid, you never think about the ugly side of being a superhero. No, you only think about going on adventures and saving the day by punching the villain of the day. You don’t think about the terrors you see, the pressure on your shoulders that threatens to crush you, the wounds that never really heal, emotionally and physically, the nightmares. Especially the nightmares.

Every superhero has their own way of dealing with nightmares, sometimes even more than one. For years, even before the nightmares were superhero related, Tony’s preference was alcohol and the fake-feeling of intimacy. By now, he dropped that habit, deciding to spending his sleepless nights in his workshop instead. Pepper declared him insane for it (she never said it out loud, but Tony knows her and all the different ways she can frown), but at least when he is in the workshop and working on something, he doesn’t feel useless.

When he recruited Peter, he kind of hoped he could save him from the nightmares. Tony always knew they were inevitable, especially considering all the trauma Peter lived through before he turned into a superhero, but a small part of him stayed optimistic. However, that optimism quickly disappeared the first time Peter spent a night at the compound, waking up covered in sweat and with a racing heart in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep.

So, Tony can’t keep the nightmares away from him. But that doesn’t mean he can’t help him find a way to deal with them.

Slowly, they wall into a routine. Whenever Peter would wake up from a nightmare, they start tinkering in the workshop. Unofficially, it is called the midnight class, even though it usually commences at around two in the morning. Sometimes, Tony would already be in there, either awake because of his own dreams or because he didn’t even go to bed yet, other times FRIDAY would wake him up, so he could collect Peter from his room and drag him downstairs. They never work on something that really required all of their attention, just enough to lure his thoughts away from the ugly images the dream showed him. When the adrenaline eventually ebbs away, Tony would quietly ask if Peter wants to talk about it. Sometimes he says yes, most of the time he says no, but that’s fine. Tony isn’t pushing.

This night, Tony is still working out the last few problems of the new green, energy efficient engine for the car they’re designing with another company, when Peter shuffles into the room. A quick glance at the clock tells Tony that it’s 1:54 am. He doesn’t say anything as Peter sits down at his designated work bench and starts to work on the project he put aside only a few hours ago in favor of eating his own weight in lasagna.

They work in silence side by side for almost half an hour before Tony sees the tension melting away from Peter’s shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tony asks, voice barely above a whisper, eyes still on the engine in front of him.

Peter doesn’t answer immediately. “I was stuck again. But this time, I couldn’t get out. It was just too much.”

“That won’t happen again,” Tony says, finally turning around to Peter. He waits until the kid sets his tools down and glances over to him, giving him as much attention as he can muster right now. “I’m not taking the suit away again. You will _always_ have a way to reach me, and I will _always_ help you. Okay?”

“What if I’m not wearing the suit? What if you can’t come?”

Tony’s first instinct is to say that that’s not possible, but he knows it’s not true. Bad things don’t wait until you’re wearing your special suit to traumatize you. Tony could be on a business trip on the other side of the world when Peter calls him.

Instead of dismissing Peter’s fear, he tries to calm him down even further. “You already did it once, and you’ve grown so much stronger since then. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to do it again.” Seeing the lingering doubt in Peter’s eyes, Tony smiles and ruffles his hair. “I believe in you, kid. If it should happen again, you will be able to get out of there.”

Peter is still not completely convinced, but he still smiles, appreciating the boost of confidence. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Want to stay down here a bit longer?” Peter nods, so they both turn back to their individual projects. Tony knows he has to look into other ways to help Peter, because doing this could lead to really unhealthy habits – Tony should know – but it works for now, and sometimes, that is enough.


	33. The missing sock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s from A Game Of Thrones by George R. R. Martin
> 
> “What are you doing?“ he asked.

“Hey Peter, do you-“ Tony stops, and blinks a few times, trying to process what he’s seeing. Peter sits in front of the washing machine, screw driver in his mouth as he takes off the cover of the machine. The kid is staying at the compound for a few weeks during his summer break while May is overseas, taking part in a project her hospital came up with, so seeing him in the laundry isn’t unusual. But normally, Peter only washes his clothes, and doesn’t take apart that poor machine. That’s more Tony’s style. “What are you doing?” he asks.

Peter mumbles something, unintelligible because of the screw driver still in his mouth.

“Try that again, buddy, but this time in a way I can actually understand you.”

The boy rolls his eyes and takes the screw driver out of his mouth with a dramatic sigh (yep, he definitely spends too much time with Tony). “I said I’m getting my sock back.”

“Your sock?”

“Exactly.”

Peter doesn’t offer any more information, and continues to take the washing machine apart.

Tony stares at him for two seconds. “Yeah, I’m gonna need a little bit more than that. What sock?”

“The sock that the machine eats.”

“Machines run on electricity, not teenager’s socks.”

“You know what I mean.” Tony stays silent. Peter stops and finally turns around to really look at Tony, eyebrows pulled together. “Wait. Do you not know what I’m talking about?”

“Would I be asking otherwise?”

“Did you never notice that sometimes a sock goes missing after you get them out of the washing machine?”

This time, Tony actually swallows down his sarcastic comment and thinks about it. He’s the kind of guy who only has black or white socks (unlike Peter, who loves cartoonish and colorful socks), so he doesn’t really care if they match or not. He just takes either two black socks or two white ones and wears them. Yeah, Tony noticed that sometimes socks went missing, but he kind of assumed he just lost them somewhere in the house or threw them away by accident or whatever, and bought new ones. He never knew that the wash machine was the culprit.

Slowly, the confused look on Peter’s face morphs into a wide grin. “Did you really not know?”

Tony crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling very defensive. “Look who you’re talking to. Do you think I have the time to concern myself with missing socks? I’m too busy for that. If I don’t have enough socks, I just buy new ones.”

“But what if it were your lucky pair of socks?”

“I don’t have a lucky pair of socks.”

“That’s insane,” Peter declares, turning back to the machine to continue his work. “You’re such a _billionaire_.”

“A billionaire who pays for all the absurd amounts of food you eat, so watch it,” Tony comments, playfully shoving Peter’s shoulder which earns him a chuckle, before he sits down next to the boy. “Walk me through this. How do you get your eaten socks back? Why didn’t I ever see you doing this before?”

“Well, I try not to do it here because I knew you wouldn’t understand-“

“Rude.”

“-but it’s my favorite pair of socks, so I couldn’t let the machine have it.” Peter continues to take the washer apart with a practiced kind of routine that tells Tony the kid has done this at least twenty times. “They usually slip through the washing drum and fall down.”

It doesn’t take Peter long to find the secret stomach of the washer, and then he pulls out a single (very dirty and dusty) sock with little Iron Man helmets and Spider-Man masks on it. Tony can’t help but match Peter’s grin. “That’s your favorite pair of socks?”

“Yeah, of course! They’re the first Spider-Man merch I found, so I had to buy them.” He turns the sock around in his hands, blowing away a bit of the dust clinging on it. “I mean, the Iron Man helmets are a bit unnecessary, but they’re still cool.”

“Alright, that’s it. You don’t get any of the food I so lovingly ordered for you. And you better reassemble that machine perfectly, I don’t want to see a stray screw rolling around anywhere.”


	34. Baking a tart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering that 1/3 of my books are about baking and cakes, I thought I mix it up a bit and take my favourite cook book and base it around the recipe from that page.
> 
> It’s a tart filled with lavender infused dark chocolate ganache and topped off with caramelized almonds.

When Peter asked Tony if he could use his kitchen to make a surprise for May, Tony knew it would most likely end in a disaster.

It is a disaster.

But also so much worse than anything Tony had imagined.

Peter insisted that he didn’t need any help, basically ushering Tony out of the kitchen the second the boy arrived at the penthouse. Seeing that Tony had some actual work to do, he wasn’t too bothered by it, and decided to let Peter just do.

About two hours later, FRIDAY informs Tony that Peter sat on the floor unmoving for the last fifteen minutes. According to her, he’s not hurt, but Tony knows it’s never a good sign when Peter sits that still for so long. Even in his sleep, the boy seems to be unable to lay still, turning around every few minutes.

The kitchen is chaos, Tony doesn’t even know where to begin to describe it. It smells like a lot of things burned. Dirty dishes pile up in the kitchen sink. Flour is not only on every surface and on the ground, but there are several flour-y handprints all over the place. In the middle of it all sits Peter, looking so discouraged, Tony doesn’t have the heart to make a quip about the kitchen.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, crouching down in front of him (he doesn’t want to get his pants dirty). Slowly, Peter looks up from under his lashes, pouting and looking very sad. “How is it going?”

“Terrible,” he complains, throwing his head back against the cupboards in frustration. “I really tried it, Mr. Stark! I followed every single step of the recipe, but it didn’t work. I thought it would work, because when I follow every step of the instructions of a chemistry experiment, it always worked. Cooking isn’t that much different than chemistry, so why didn’t it work?”

“Well, it is a little different,” Tony only comments and Peter groans, burying his face in his hands. “What went wrong?”

“Everything! First I burned the tart shells, then I underbaked them, and when I finally got them perfect, they broke when I moved them. The almonds burn literally every time I put them in the oven. It’s like I look away for one second, and suddenly they’re too dark. And the ganache…” Peter sighs deeply. “I burned the cream, because I apparently burn everything, and then I did it again, and now it tastes like soap.”

“Soap?” Peter nods and points to the bowl with the dark liquid. Deciding that it can’t actually taste like soap, Tony dibs his finger inside and licks it. Immediately, he wants to spit it out and wash his mouth. That actually tastes like soap and it leaves an oily film on his tongue. He really tries to think of something that would cheer Peter up, but he honestly can’t think of anything.

Tony’s eyes fall on the recipe. It’s already a bit older, faint chocolate stains covering the paper in two corners, the edges slightly ripped, notes made in a spidery handwriting. That dessert is not something Tony would have ever thought Peter would pick out. Peter loves classic flavors, the exception new Ben & Jerry flavors, but this is more something they would serve in one of the restaurants Tony takes Pepper to when he has to apologize.

However, before Tony can ask (or try to get him to get a different surprise for May, one that wouldn’t further ruin his kitchen) Peter is already talking again. “May and Ben ate that dessert on their first date,” he explains, eyes on his knees. “Ben made it every year for their anniversary. She wanted to buy one from that restaurant last years, but they closed years ago. So, I thought this year, I could make her one.” He sighs again and points to the mess around him. “But, clearly, I cannot.”

Tony immediately feels like a jackass for even thinking about suggesting a different kind of surprise for May. His eyes wander back over the mess, the burned food, and the recipe in his hands.

Tony gets it in his head that they will make that tart for May, and it will not be burned or taste like soap. And if Tony gets something in his head, it’s impossible to stop him from doing it.

“Alright.” Clapping in his hands once, Tony grabs the spare apron from a hook on the wall and throws it on, tying it together with swift fingers. “C’mon, get up, Parker, no time for the long faces.”

Peter stays on the ground. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he asks, going over the recipe once more and checking if they have enough of the ingredients. “We’re gonna make that tart, and if that’s the last thing we do. I mean, with our combined IQ, we should make it work, right? We should probably clean up first, though, we don’t have enough space to make it work. FRI, please search the internet for some baking hacks, and find out what went wrong with the ganache that it tastes like soap.”

_“Of course, boss.”_

Peter still sits on the ground unmoving, watching as his mentor fills the sink with water, and only moving when Tony throws a few bubbles of soap at him.

It takes them a few hours and one trip to the supermarket to get more ingredients, but they finally make a batch of perfect tarts, looking beautiful and tasting delicious and soap-free. A day later, Peter sends Tony a picture of May eating the tart, happy tears still glistering in her eyes.


	35. His Dark Materials AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> It’s from The Son of Neptune by Rick Riordan
> 
> “You’ve caused enough trouble this week.”

(Combined this with the idea for a [His Dark Materials AU](https://jen27ny.tumblr.com/search/his%20dark%20materials) I had a while ago, but changed Tony’s daemon to a raven because of some suggestions I got.)

Tony is sitting in his lab, working on his new, very delicate nanobots which required all of his concentration. The music that’s usual so loud you can barely hear your own words is nothing more than a background whisper right now, not daring to interrupt him. Even FRIDAY doesn’t remind him how long he’s been working non-stop and that he really needs a break to eat something.

The only thing breaking his concentration is the flapping sound of wings to his right. His raven daemon Cassandra can’t sit still, on edge with the pent up energy inside her from not moving for so long – just like Tony feels. Normally, she would fly around the workshop to move around, but even that is too much of a distraction right now.

Another flapping sound, but this time it sounds slightly more aggressive.

“Cass, dear,” Tony murmurs, trying his best to stay calm, “do you think you can hold still for a little while longer?”

“I’m trying,” she chirps back.

“Try harder.”

“Maybe you should work faster.” People often assumed that Tony’s sassiness is a personality trait that came with being a genius or even his troublesome past, but in reality, it’s because Cassandra has by his side for all of his live. She’s the sassy one between them, and Tony only copies her, but since daemons rarely talk when other people are around (especially ones they don’t know), only a selected handful of people know about it.

The raven stays quiet for two seconds, before she flaps her wings around once again. “Seriously? Can’t you just-“

Just then, the doors to his workshop slide open, and Peter walks in, the usual little jump in his step that tells Tony the boy’s mood is way too good for Tony to continue his intricate work on the nanobots. Peter would be too distracting, not to mention his daemon Naia who has even more energy and curiosity than the boy. As if reading his mind, the ring-tailed lemur jumps into the room, swinging from one rope that Tony had installed underneath the ceiling to the other, landing on Tony’s workbench and stretching out one hand towards the nanobots.

“Oh, no!” Tony says, quickly blocking the path of her hand with the soldering iron he’s holding. “You’ve caused enough trouble this week.” To prove his point, he nods towards the slightly charred spot at the wall. Naia still doesn’t move, looking at him with unblinking orange eyes. “I said no. You could get seriously hurt. Go over there and play with your toys, King Julien.” Tony had been afraid the daemon would be slightly offended by the nickname as it slipped out of his mouth the first time, but she’s been too excited about being named after one of her favorite movie characters.

Seemingly realizing that Tony won’t let her play with the nanobots, Naia jumps away, stopping on Peter’s shoulder for a second (he’s feeding Cassandra some treats he started carrying with him), before racing to the designated daemon corner where they keep the toys to keep Naia and occasionally Cassandra busy. Once the raven sees her friend in that corner, she finally flies away from her spot on the pole, taking a second to really spread her wings, and joins the lemur.

At first, Tony had been a bit worried about how fast Cassandra grew comfortable with being near Naia. Normally, she’s quite reserved around other daemons, just like Tony likes to keep his distance from other people. But Cassandra seemed to have no problem with the lemur invading her personal space, which she usually only allows Pepper’s fox, Rhodey’s eagle, or Happy’s dog. It made Tony suspicious, the images of Stane’s lux daemon pressing the raven down to the ground, sharp claws of her paw grazing her skin, and Steve’s lioness hissing and snapping at the hurt raven that couldn’t use her wings for weeks afterwards too fresh in his mind. But Naia never touched Cassandra with anything than gentle touches, immediately backing off when she feels the raven growing distressed.

It took Tony a bit longer to warm up to Peter, but deep inside himself he knew from the start that that would happen eventually, simply by watching the two daemons interact.

“Hey Mr. Stark!” Peter happily greets him, coming over to his work bench and eyeing the nanobots with just as much curiosity as Naia did seconds ago. “Are those the nanobots? They look amazing!”

“It would be even more amazing if they would finally work.” Finally setting the soldering iron aside, Tony stretches his arms over his head. “How was school? Did you learn anything exciting or did your teachers only teach you garbage again?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Just because you think my Science teacher doesn’t teach me important stuff-“

“I don’t think so, I know so! Who is the certified genius? Who has been called the da Vinci of our time? I know what’s important.”

He ignores his mentor, more than used to his rant. “-doesn’t mean they teach me garbage. There is this one thing called a curriculum, y’know?”

“Alright, defend your useless teacher as much as you want.” Peter giggles quietly which is interrupted by a loud rumble from his stomach. Right, super metabolism because of his spider bite (one night after a nightmare, Peter confessed to Tony that he feared Naia would turn into a spider, too, but fortunately she stayed her monkey self). However, Tony’s stomach joined in on the rumbling orchestra. Maybe he’d gone without food for longer than he realized. “How about we get some food, huh? Are you in the mood for pizza?”

“Pizza is always good,” Peter beams.

With a smile, Tony gets up from his chair, ruffles Peter’s hair, and pulls him into his side, one arm around his shoulder. “Hey, you two!” he yells over to the daemons. “Are you coming or do you want to continue playing?”

If a raven could roll its eyes, Cassandra would do that. Non-stop. Instead, she only flies over to him, landing on his shoulder, nipping at his ear playfully, like she always does when she wants him to know he’s trying too hard to be funny. Naia jumps onto Peter’s head, her long tail wrapped around his neck for stability, only millimeters away from touching Tony’s arm, and they all walk into the elevator together.


	36. Pepper the babysitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Can I get a story of Pepper babysitting kid Peter?

Tony lets Pepper decide pretty much almost everything in his life, especially when it’s work related. She would set down a document in front of him, point out where she needs his signature, and he would sign it without so much as reading a single word, instead asking her for a brief summary and her opinion on the matter. Pepper knows that a lot of people think Tony lost his mind because of it, some even think it’s part of a plan to get in her pants.

She asked him about it once, why he doesn’t bother reading over a document or looking over something she arranged himself, but he only shrugged, not even looking up from the new missile he was working on. “You got a very clever head on your shoulders, Potts,” he commented in a nonchalant way, like he was stating the very obvious. “I know you want the best for the company, and I would probably come to the same conclusion you have. So why bother? This way, I have more time to do stuff that I enjoy.” Then, almost like an after thought, he raised his head and gave her one small, genuine smile. “I trust you.”

If Tony hadn’t been her boss, she would’ve ripped his clothes away right then and there and given in to the urges she suppressed pretty much ever since she started working for him. However, he was still her boss, so she only thanked him and ignored the burning heat in her chest, swearing herself that she would never do something to make him regret his trust in her.

It’s a different story when it comes to Peter, though. Ever since Tony first brought his son home from the hospital – alone, because Mary died less than two hours after giving birth – Tony has been very protective of his son. Pepper knows about all of Tony’s insecurities, she knows he’s afraid he turns out like Howard, but she knows they’re baseless. Tony loves Peter more than anything else.

Finding a babysitter who matches all of Tony’s impossible high requirements and standards has been almost impossible, but after a few weeks, they finally found someone seemingly perfect, a nice, middle aged woman named Grace. She has been nothing but kind and professional – until now.

Pepper paces up and down in the living room, phone pressed against her ear, keeping her swears as quiet as possible, because Peter sits only a couple of feet away from her, still munching on his breakfast. Like the other few hundred times, Grace doesn’t pick up. Pepper takes a deep breath to collect herself, finally accepting that the babysitter will probably not show up today.

Today, the day that Tony is on the other side of the world for a weapons demonstration. Grace was supposed to stay the entire weekend, and for the first time in literal years, Pepper would have a weekend off.

Well, not anymore. She can’t leave the four-year-old on his own, and she knows she would lose all of Tony’s trust if she just called another babysitter. But years of working for someone as eccentric as Tony Stark made Pepper an expert in changing her plans.

So, she only sends a quick message to Tony, informing him that Grace didn’t show up and that she will fill in, reminding him once again how important the weapons demonstration is and that he should definitely not turn around right away, before walking over to Peter. “Hey, Peter,” she says and sits down next to him. He grins at her (not caring that she can see his half-eaten food in his mouth), and she smiles back. “Grace will not come this weekend.”

At once, Peter’s shoulders drop in disappointment. He likes Grace. “Oh, okay.”

“But I will stay with you. How does that sound?”

And Peter’s smile is back. “Very good! I like playing with you!”

Pepper’s smile widens as she wipes away some food from the corner of his mouth. “And I like playing with you, Peter. How about you finish your breakfast and then find something fun to do?”

~*~*~

“- and then you put them together like this!” Peter explains as he shows her how to connect two Legos together.

Pepper – who changed out of her usual business attire into more comfortable clothes that are stored in her spare room at the mansion – nods solemnly, takes a red and a blue Lego piece into her hand, and presses them together, pretending to be doing this for the first time. “Like this?”

“Yeah!” Peter cheers. “Good job!” He gives her a thumbs up, the exact same way Tony always gives him a thumbs up when Peter does anything new.

Pepper chuckles, and pulls more of the Legos closer to them. “Okay, now that I know how to play, what are we building?”

~*~*~

Peter holds the piece of fruit from his lunch towards her. “Do you want one?”

Pepper shakes her head no. “No, thank you.”

“But they are very yummy.”

“I bet they are, Peter, but I’m allergic to strawberries.”

Slowly, he lowers his hand, eyebrows pulled together. Peter knows what allergic means; he’s a smart kid and he’s got a lot of allergies himself. “Oh,” he says. “I didn’t know you could be allergic to strawberries.” Before Pepper can anything about that, he pushes the fruit into his mouth. “Then you can’t have it.”

Pepper hums, forgoing the reminder that he shouldn’t speak with food in his mouth in favor of the cute moment.

Peter looks back at his plate and selects a different piece of fruit. “Do you want an orange?” This time, Pepper takes it and thanks him.

~*~*~

Peter stands in front of her in his bright red trunks and the inflated swimmies on his arms, watching her apply yet another coat of sunscreen on her skin. “Why do you use different sunscreen than me?” Peter, no doubt thanks to Tony’s unfair genes, very rarely gets a sunburn.

Pepper, on the other hand, with her light skin and red hair, burns pretty much the second she steps out of the shadows. “Because I get a sunburn very easily, and if I do, your daddy will not stop teasing me about it.”

“Daddy likes your freckles,” Peter says instead, running a finger over the tan spots on her arms. “I like them, too. They’re pretty.”

Pepper is pretty sure that the redness on her cheeks right now has nothing to do with a sunburn. In school, she has been teased about them endlessly, to the point that she despised the little spots. Hearing that someone (that Tony) likes them, makes her feel oddly coy. “Thank you. Wanna go into the pool now?”

Peter jumps up and down in excitement, and Pepper has to catch him before he can slip on the ground.

~*~*~

They lay on the couch.

Well, Pepper lays on the couch. Peter lays on Pepper, head against her collarbone and almost asleep. He always loves physical contact with absolutely no regard for a little thing called personal space, but it gets even worse when he’s sleepy. But Pepper doesn’t mind right now. In fact, lying here with Peter against her chest, running a hand through his curls while a movie plays in the background, feels a lot more relaxing and peaceful than she ever imagined.

“Pepper?” Peter whispers, barely audible and full of sleep.

“What is it?” she asks back just as quietly.

“I had a lot of fun today.”

Pepper doesn’t notice the small smile on her face. She kisses the top of his head once. “I had a lot of fun, too.”

“Can you stay here?”

“I’m here every day.”

“No, I mean stay here all the time.” There’s a short pause. “Like a mommy?”

Pepper’s heart skips a beat. She doesn’t know if Peter really knows what he’s implying here or he just thinks of mommy as a female adult person in his life. And before she can stop herself, she sees herself having breakfast with Tony and Peter, sees herself telling both of them to get out of the workshop, sees herself going on adventures (like Peter calls them) with them – pretty much almost everything she does now, but… different. She can’t say exactly what seems so different, but it is. And it’s warm.

Not knowing what to say to that – or what the sudden whirlwind of emotions inside of her means – she kisses Peter’s head once more. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow, we’re going to have even more fun.”

Peter is asleep in a matter of seconds.

~*~*~

Something touches her shoulder and Pepper jolts awake.

“Sorry,” a deep voice whispers. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

She knows that voice. “Tony?” Trying her best to open her eyes, she looks around the dark living room, seeing Tony sitting next to them on the coffee table. It’s past 3 am. He gives her a gentle and apologetic smile. “What are you doing here? The demonstration-“

“-is over. Don’t worry, I closed that deal as fast as I could and flew back here.” His smile slightly widens. “I promised you a weekend off, Potts. Had to make sure you get at least half a weekend.”

“It’s fine,” she says, shaking her head. Peter is still dead asleep on her. Tony probably wanted to pick him up earlier. “I had fun with him.”

_Can you stay here?_

“Thank you for looking after him.” The sheer amount of honest gratitude in Tony’s voice makes Pepper look up, and once she locks eyes with him, she’s unable to look away.

_Like a mommy?_

What if she would answer that question with a yes? Would that be so bad?

Not willing to deal with those feelings at 3 in the morning and still half asleep, Pepper finally breaks the eye contact, looking back down at Peter’s curls. “Of course. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

Even in the low light and out of the corners of her eyes, Pepper sees Tony smile. “That will be all, Miss Potts.” Gently, he picks up Peter, who doesn’t wake up and simply snuggles into his father’s chest. “Do me a favor,” Tony says as he walks over to the stairs, “and don’t try to drive home right now. It’s late and you have a perfectly fine bed here. And in the morning, I’ll make you pancakes as a thank you for your babysitter adventures.”

“I’m more of an omelette person.”

Tony throws her another smirk over his shoulder. “Omelette it is, then.”

Pepper can do nothing but smile, wondering how much longer she can resist this.


End file.
